


It's All Just Business

by LilithNeith



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Castiel, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Beta Sam, Episode: s04e17 It's a Terrible Life, Fluff and Smut, Jealous Castiel, Light Angst, M/M, Mpreg, Omega Dean, Pregnant Dean, Protective Castiel, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-13
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2018-05-01 09:42:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 68,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5201159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilithNeith/pseuds/LilithNeith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being an omega in the working world is hard enough, but add in the fact that Dean Smith is up against a competitive (and very hot) alpha who clearly hates him, poor Dean is barely making it in the professional world. And it all just gets a little bit more complicated when their relationship moves in a direction neither of them ever thought it would.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based upon this text post [ [ x ](http://hawkngbird.tumblr.com/post/58096694152/dean-smith-being-arch-rivals-with-castiel-and-both)]
> 
>  

“How dare you! You know I’ve been working on the Cohen budget for weeks now!”

Sam looks at his lunch, trying to hide himself from the war currently raging outside Dean Smith’s office. Although Dean knew Sam was waiting for him so that he could take their daily lunch together, he still had insisted upon confronting Castiel Novak right before it. 

“My expertise is finance, Dean! It’s my job to find solutions!”

So far Sam only has ten minutes left on his lunch break. Dean’s lunch remains untouched beside him. 

“You stole that account from me,” he hears Dean protest. 

“I simply improved upon,” comes Castiel’s reply. “Maybe if you weren’t so busy worrying about me _beating you_ , you would actually be good at your job.”

One point for Novak, Sam marks mentally before the door slams open and shut and Sam’s faced with a seething omega. 

“Fuck him,” Dean mutters. “Fuck that arrogant alpha. I’m so tired of dealing with him.” 

Dean paces around the office for a little bit, shaking a container filled with green goop that fills Sam with dread before he realizes that he’s still there. 

“Sorry,” he mutters, slamming down in his chair. “It just sucks, you know? Working so hard and having it stolen by that… alpha.” 

“He really didn’t really steal it, did he?” 

“No,” Dean admits. “But he did help close the account and that gets him all the credit.” 

Dean turns to the large turkey sandwich sitting in front of him. Thanks to Sam, Dean’s actually eating real meals between his smoothies and workouts. 

“I’m just worried,” he admits, taking a bite of the sandwich. “Our annual progress report is coming up and I think Cas might just win this year.” 

For whatever reason, ever since Novak joined the firm, Dean and Cas have been chasing after each other, trying to outdo one another for some unspoken contest that has managed to spring up between the two of them. Sam thinks it’s because they’re both workaholics by nature and that just their mere presence with each other has done more to encourage this unhealthy habit.  

It could also be, and this is a theory only between Charlie, Ian, Garth and himself, the crazy amount of sexual tension between them has been misplaced and is causing this rivalry with their attempts to ignore it. 

“Well, I’m sure the conference is going to be a joy,” Sam teases. 

“Tell me about it,” Dean groans. “An entire weekend with that douche-lord. I’m so stressed about it, I think I might jump-start my heat.” 

“Gross, Dean.” 

“Hey, just cause you’re a beta and you don’t have to deal with that stuff, doesn’t mean it isn’t natural.” 

“God, I’m trying to eat!” 

-

It seems this year Sandover isn’t holding back. They had sprung for the best hotel, given his entire department some of the nicest suites and ensured that all meals would be on them. 

And yet, this has to be the worst fucking conference he’s ever been to. 

Not only is he in fucking Miami, of all places, he’s also stuck in an enclosed space for two days with his worst enemy- Castiel Novak. On top of that, according to the tracking app on his phone, his heat is due this weekend, although he hasn’t seen any signs of it yet. 

Not that it’s unusual for him. He’s been stressed out with work and for the last couple of months his heats have been kind of wonky. Maybe he can grab some suppressants for the weekend, just in case, even if he doesn’t like using them cause they’re not natural, and deal with it when he comes back. 

Which is why he's an elevator trying to dash to a drug store before the next meeting starts, and, of course, that's when Castiel Novak has to walk into said elevator. 

“Dean,” he nods when he enters. 

“Novak,” Dean replies curtly, because he still hasn’t forgiven him for the number he pulled last week. 

Castiel seems to notice the cold tone, quirking an eyebrow with surprise, a small contained smile appearing briefly on his face. 

“Still mad I take it?” he smirks, that alpha bastard. 

“You think?”

Castiel turns to Dean. “Like I said-”

“Blah, blah, blah, if I wasn’t an omega, you would actually respect me enough to not go sneaking around, backstabbing and all that crap.” 

“I can assure you that even if you were an alpha, I still would’ve closed those accounts without you. You need to stop using your omega-ness as an excuse for why I don’t like you.” 

“Oh, so you’re saying that you don’t like me because my personality sucks?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Castiel agrees, as the elevator dings open. “How nice we can agree on one thing.” 

At this, he steps out, leaving Dean flustered and yelling as the door closes, “Yeah? Well, screw you too!”

-

After enduring a day filled with conferences, pep talks and _Castiel Novak_ , Dean deserves a drink. 

Which is why, of course, when he gets down to the hotel bar, he finds the one and only freaking Castiel Novak sitting right at front, right where Dean wants to be. 

All the other tables are filled with drunken suits, mostly alphas and betas that are trading stories about deals they’ve made, crazing meeting they’ve been to and omegas that they’ve conquered. After surveying the crowd, Dean takes a seat at the only spot available, right next to Novak. 

“Dean!” Castiel greets him brightly, meaning he’s definitely not on his first drink. 

“Novak,” Dean nods, turning to the bartender. 

Castiel frowns. “You’re _still_ mad at me?” 

“No,” Dean mumbles. 

Castiel stares at him. “You are,” he says wisely. He turns to the bartender. “His drink is on me.” 

He turns to Dean with a goofy smile on his face like he’s done something good and Dean can feel his patience snap just before he opens his mouth and blurts out, “Christ, I’m so tired of alphas doing that.” 

Castiel looks confused.  “I’m just trying to be nice. Just trying to say I’m sorry for how I acted early.”

“No, you’re not. You’re just being all domineering and showing you’re in control. I can get my own drink, thanks.”

“But you don’t have to. I’m _apologizing_ , Dean. I’m being sincere, even if you’re too stubborn to realize that.”

Dean takes the drink and downs it before ordering another one. He wants to get properly drunk before he stumbles back to his room, so that he can pretend that this weekend isn't happen. 

“Why don’t you like me?” Castiel asks quietly. “Because I’m an alpha.”

“Because you’re a typical alpha,” Dean corrects. “And because you don’t like me being at Sandover because I’m an omega.” 

“I’ve never said that.” 

“You don’t have to buddy, it’s quite clear in how you like taking accounts away from me and showing me up constantly.” 

Castiel lets out a frustrated growl. “I’m not doing that because you’re an omega. I’m doing that because you started this whole rival/disliking me thing before I even had a chance to talk with you. You just decided to hate me.”

“Buddy, I didn’t just decide, you gave me a reason for it.” 

“Not that I can see.” 

“Okay,” Dean says, taking another shot. “Maybe I just hate you.” 

“Well, the feelings mutual,” Castiel snaps back, but even Dean can tell that’s a lie ‘cause he can smell alpha arousal, can see how Cas is clutching his drink like he’s trying to control himself and he smiles. 

“That’s not what your pants are telling me,” he nods down to Cas’s crotch where he can see his cock straining through the dark dress pants. He leans in, laying a hand on Castiel’s thigh. “Do you want me to deal with that?”

“Fuck,” Castiel mutters, his face turning red. “I do. I really do.” 

Dean pulls the hand away and he can practically see Castiel whimpering. “What are the magic words, alpha?” 

“Please. God, Dean please.” 

“Alright, but only because I hate you so much.” He turns to the bartender. “We’d like our bills now.” 

-

Dean barely has time to open his room’s door before Castiel pushes him against a wall, his eyes wide and hungry. 

“You want this, right?” he pauses and Dean nods, pulling his pants off and reaching out to pull Castiel nearer to him. 

“Fuck, of course I do.” he says, cupping Castiel’s chin, drawing him in for a kiss, slowly wrapping his legs around him, making the alpha hold him and carry him. “Fuck, you’re a dick, but you get me all wet.” 

And to prove it, he grabs Cas’s hands and guides them to his boxers, letting him first feel his erect cock, before pulling them to his ass. Dean can feel Castiel’s breath hitch as he does this, before he grabs at Dean’s ass, pushing the two of them together, his fingers slowly working at Dean’s ass. 

Slick is already coming out of him and he moans as Castiel’s fingers lightly touch his rim. Castiel pulls out quickly, leaving Dean feeling empty on just the _idea_ of Cas not being in him. 

Dean reaches for Cas’s hand, but the alpha smirks and pulls away, Dean’s feet quickly and clumsily hitting the ground. Trying to regain his balance, he watches Cas slowly unbuttoning his white dress shirt, each finger deliberately and purposefully tracing each pearl button before he slowly pops his shirt open. Dean whimpers and Cas’s smile grows larger. 

“Careful Dean, we have all night,” Cas warns, though his voice has deepened with desire, his pupils blown with need. 

But Dean doesn’t want to wait all night, he wants Cas now, wants Cas in him _now_.

“Damn it, Cas,” he says, breathless, as Castiel drops his shirt before reaching for his belt. “I’ll walk out of here right now and find another alpha if you don’t hurry up.” 

Dean knows how he smells, knows any alpha would take him right now. 

Castiel growls and pulls Dean towards the bed, stripping him of his boxer before pushing the omega down. 

“Such an eager little omega,” Castiel mutters, discarding his pants and underwear. Dean lies there watching, spreading his legs for the alpha. Castiel laughs before he kneels on the bed and begins quickly kissing him, tracing his body from the collarbone right down to the tip of his cock. 

Dean bucks his hips up and Castiel grips at them, pushing him down while he places one more kiss to Dean’s cock and sits up. “I hardly expected that from you.” 

“Alpha,” Dean begs, feeling empty, feeling the need to be filled. He’s not going to say, “I need you” although he does, he really does, instead he just keeps spreading his legs and hoping if he waits long enough Cas will reward him. 

Cas kisses Dean’s neck, sucking slowly at him, until Dean’s sure the skin is bruised. It takes him by surprise when he feels Cas nip lightly at his neck. He can feel the arousal, the need to claim coming from Cas and he wonders for a second if he’s gotten himself in too deep with this alpha. But Castiel doesn’t try to claim him, instead he moves to Dean’s shoulder, tracing his freckles with his kisses. 

Dean wraps his legs around Cas, drawing him closer as he ruts against him and they keep kissing and rubbing at each other. 

“Dean,” Cas moans, the only warning before he buries his cock into Dean.

“Fuck,” Dean hisses, the stretch new but not unwanted. “Fuck that feels good.” 

It’s been forever since he’s had an alpha, mostly sticking with betas and omegas because he struggles enough with being an omega at work, doesn’t need an alpha in both his work and home life, but he misses this, misses the feeling of an alpha cock in him, misses the way it stretches him out good. It feels real good. 

Cas seems to think so too, ‘cause Dean can feel his knot swelling, can feel the sheets twist beside him as Cas clutches at them with one hand, his other gripping at Dean’s thigh, anchoring him as he moves in him.

“I want to knot you,” Castiel mutters. “Can I knot you?” 

Dean can hardly breath, let alone speak, so he nods against the alpha’s head. Castiel shudders before Dean feels his knot stretch inside him, hitting within him, making him call out the alpha’s name. Castiel groans one last time and Dean can feel the knot and then himself fill with the alpha’s cum, feel it being pumped into him. 

At this, Cas loosens his grip on Dean’s thighs, reaching for Dean’s cock. It only takes a few strokes before Dean comes too and the alpha maneuvers them onto their side, his knot still tight in Dean, stretching and filling him. 

At this, Dean feels boneless, his body sated and exhausted. Castiel slots Dean into him, wrapping an arm around him, keeping him warm and safe, allowing Dean to drift off, the smell of alpha musk, sweat, and cum filling his nose and he sighs happily into, ignoring the murmurs of praise coming from Cas, he falls asleep. 

-

The next morning is awkward to say the least. By the time Dean wakes, Castiel’s knot has gone down and the alpha has moved away from him in his sleep. By instinct and the need for warmth, Dean moves closer to the body heat before he realizes that he’s just slept his work enemy. 

“Fuck,” he says out loud. 

Cas keeps snoring lightly next to him and probably can’t be disturbed for heaven or hell. This leaves Dean in an awkward position since it is his room and wonders what the protocol is on getting your lover/enemy/co-worker out of your bedroom. 

“I still hate you,” he says quietly to Cas’s sleeping form. “This doesn’t change anything.” 

He rolls over and falls back asleep, hoping he’ll be able to face the day with a few more hours of sleep. 

 


	2. Chapter 2

When Castiel wakes, it’s to the smell of a content omega and the feeling of a warm body pressed to his. 

He turns his head to Dean’s neck, breathing in deeply the scent of the omega. 

_This_ , he thinks _, is right._ This moment is perfect.

Of course, it’s ruined when he remembers exactly who that warm, content omega is. Yet when he breathes in the scent of Dean, he doesn’t feel repulsed, doesn’t feel bad for what he’s done. In fact, Dean’s scent smells _right_ and he wants to spend the day in bed with him, cuddling him, scenting him, watching crap TV before they head back on their shared flight to Ohio. Maybe, if he’s lucky, he could even knot Dean again, watch that omega open up for him, hear that omega yell his name again, and, for once, let Cas in. 

Too bad his luck is shit. 

He feels Dean wake beside him before he smells the shift from content sleepy omega to pissed off Dean. 

“You’re still here?” Dean mumbles, reaching over to grab his phone, letting the cold air under the sheets. “Dude, its like 9:30.”  

“I know.” 

The omega huffs, sitting up. 

Never has Castiel seen Dean Smith look so _unkept_. His hair, usually neatly parted and slicked back, is ruffled from sleep and sex. Dean rubs his eyes, trying to wake himself up fully, and just the innocences of the action makes Cas’ hard. 

He presses a kiss to Dean’s shoulder, reaching up to sweep Dean’s hair from his eyes. 

“We don’t have another conference till 11. That gives us plenty of time,” he says lowly. 

Dean freezes in his arms.

“For what?” he asks. 

Castiel looks up at him. 

“For sex. But if you want, we can just lie in bed for a while.” He presses another kiss to Dean’s shoulder and tries to scent him again. “I’m fine either way.” 

Dean pushes Cas away and practically jumps off the bed. 

“Dude, that was…. that was just a one time thing,” he stammers, wrapping a sheet around his waist. “I was just helping you out. That’s all it was.” 

Castiel face’s falls. Dean’s look of panic is replaced by disgust. 

“You thought it was real?” he scoffs. “You thought all that ‘ _alpha I need you’_ crap was real? Come on, I’m the fucking director of sales and marketing. I didn’t get that way by bending over for every alpha that got a knot for me. You think I’m intimidated by you. God, you alphas are fucking predictable.” 

Castiel can’t hear any more of this. He gets out bed and dresses quickly, grabbing whatever pieces of clothing he can find. He can’t get a scent on Dean, though the air is filled with anger, disgust, along with fear and worry. Underneath it though, Cas can also sense the omega’s amusement as Castiel throws away a piece of clothing that’s clearly not his. 

“You think this is funny?” he snaps, struggling to put on some pants he’s only half sure are his. “You think that I’m some sort of joke you can laugh at? Just remember, it was me that took you apart, made you open your legs like a little omega whore, made you call my name while I knotted you. You might be the director of sales and marketing, but last night, you were my little bitch.” 

As soon as he says it, he regrets it, and he can only regret it more when he watches Dean’s face drop, watches Dean Smith fall apart in front of him, but within seconds, Castiel also watches the omega build himself up again, his eyes hard, his entire self instantly composed and cool. 

“I didn’t mean that,” he quickly says. He moves towards Dean, who steps back. “I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean that.” 

“You should go,” Dean bites out.  

“I truly am sorry, Dean,” he pleads, but there’s a harshness in the omega’s eyes that he never wanted to see, never wanted to put there, so he leaves before Dean can yell, before this situation can get any worse. 

“Fuck,” he mutters, once the door closes behind him. “Fuck.” 

-

Sam Wesson might work some low level job that mostly involves telling baby boomers to turn their computer on and off again, but that doesn’t mean he’s stupid. Maybe it’s the position of lowly tech support worker that keeps him inconspicuous, but there’s not many things that can get past him. When there were cut backs in the company and people were about to be fired- Sam knew, when Sandover was changing operating systems- Sam knew. Hell, he even knew when his floor was going to throw him a surprise party (although that was more because he overheard Charlie talking about it than an example of his mental prowess). Maybe he just has a sixth sense of something, but he knows right away that something happened between Dean and Cas during that work conference. 

Or maybe it’s just the fact that he’s eating his lunch peacefully with Dean, instead of listening to the two of them yell at each other while he eats his sandwich by himself. 

Because he trusts Dean, he waits for the omega to bring it up, but after two whole weeks of quiet lunches, he finally breaks. 

“Dude, what’s up between you and Castiel?”

Dean looks up at him from his salad, his face red, “I don’t know what you mean.”

Sam rolls his eyes. Right.

“I mean, it’s been like two weeks and I haven’t seen you two make eye contact with each other, let alone, you know, spend an entire lunch hashing it out with each other.” 

“In case you forget, I kinda hate the guy. Don’t really want to see him.” 

“Yeah,” Sam scoffs, “Didn’t stop you from making the hallway the WWE for the last couple of months.”  

“Maybe I’ve learned to channel my anger. Maybe that’s why I’ve been kicking his ass with sales for the last two weeks.”

Maybe, but Sam doubts that and it’s clearly on his face, ‘cause Dean quickly switches the topic. 

Something happened two weeks ago between Castiel and Dean, and Sam’s going to find out what. 

-

Shortly after Dean declares his supreme work abilities, his sale records begins to drop. Sam expects the daily yelling sessions between Cas and Dean to start up again, but to his surprise (as well as the entire floor’s), Castiel remains subdue, rarely has that triumphant alpha look that Sam’s used to seeing. Instead, both Dean and Cas keep working quietly. Dean ignores the topic anytime Sam tries to bring it up and Cas (when Sam catches him in the elevator, he’s not like _stalking_ these two or something) looks embarrassed and politely tells Sam to ask Dean about it. (Dean, not so politely, tells Sam to fuck off). 

Now Sam has a hunch, which is something he’d like to prove, because he has a lot of money in the tech support pool saying that Dean and Cas would finally deal with their rivalry through good old-fashion hate sex and he’d hate to see it wasted on Charlie and Ian’s guess- that they’ll ignore it forever, forcing the entire office to deal with their unresolved sexual tension until doomsday. 

Sam only gets an inkling that he might win that bet when Dean throws up on his shoes. 

He counts that as a win of sorts. 

It occurs during one of their lunches. Sam watches Dean bring out his daily salad and just before he’s about to chow down, the colour drains from the omega’s face. 

“Dean, you okay?” Sam asks quickly, dropping his fork. 

Dean nods. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he says, slightly strained. But Dean looks like death warmed over and his hands clutch at his desk like he’s trying to anchor himself to something. Sam’s about to reach out and pat him on the back gently, try and sooth him, when the omega bends over and spews onto his shoes. 

Sam jumps back. 

“What the hell, man?” he blurts out. 

Dean is still bent over gasping and Sam moves to him, careful to avoid kneeling in the pile of vomit on the floor. “You all right?” 

Dean nods. “Sorry,” he mutters, before slowly sitting up. He wipes his face with his soiled tie. “I’ll pay for your shoes.” 

“Dude, what just happened there?”

“Don’t know. Just, kind of, came over me. Been happening for the last couple of days. Must be the flu or something.”

“‘Oh yeah, ‘cause this is totally flu season,” Sam points out. “Does this have anything to do with why you’ve been exhausted for the last two weeks?” 

“It’s just stress. It’s a busy time right now.” 

“Which is why you passed out during Doctor Sexy? Dude, you made me marathon the entire show during the annual reviews and you managed to stay awake till three for that.” 

“What do you want me to say?” Dean snaps. “Look, I’m sorry about your shoes. I probably just have some bug. Don’t need to worry about me.”

“Dean-”

“Drop it, Sam.” 

Sam does, but he’s pretty sure both Dean and him know what’s going on. 

-

Sam lets it go on for another week, but finally after watching Dean struggle to stay awake during their weekly viewing of _Doctor Sexy_ (Sam still doesn’t get it, but he likes hanging out with Dean after work), he can’t take it anymore.

“Dude,” he says, nudging Dean awake. 

“What?” the omega grunts, wiping drool from his chin. “I’m awake, I’m awake.” 

“Sure you are.” Sam turns off the TV and turns to face him.

“Hey, I was watching that!”

Sam rolls his eyes. “Dean, have you noticed that in the last few weeks, you’ve been… kind of off?” 

“Off like?”

“Like you’re barely awake most days. Like the fact that when you are awake, you’re still not entirely there. Like your attention is somewhere else. Oh and let’s not forget this two week flu you’ve been having.”

“What are you trying to say?” Dean looks suspiciously at him.  

“That maybe… that maybe you’re pregnant?”  

Sam closes his eyes, waiting for Dean to punch him or start yelling at him. All he hears is Dean's laugh. 

“ _You think.”_

“You know?” Sam exclaims. “How long have you known for?” 

“Duh, Sam. I’m not an idiot,” Dean rolls his eyes. “Figured it out when the morning sickness kicked in.” 

“You’ve known for what two weeks now and you didn’t tell me!”

“What? Sorry, I didn’t call you up the moment I found out. It’s not like you’re the one who got me pregnant.”

“Have you told the alpha who did?” _Have you told Cas?_ he thinks. _Is this why Cas has been so quiet lately_. 

Dean curls into himself. “No. I haven’t told anyone yet. Just you. Still trying to wrap my head around it. Not sure the alpha would really care, to be honest. It’s not like we like each other or anything.”

“So, it’s Cas’s then?” Sam blurts out. 

All Sam gets as a response is the scent of an angry omega. Dean looks over to the TV, his hand gripping the remote and his finger on the ON button, ready to shut Sam off. 

“Dean,” he says quietly. “You know I’m not going to judge you if it’s his. It’s kind of obvious.”

“Great,” Dean snaps. “So the entire office will know. That’s just peachy.” 

“I mean, it was kind of obvious to me.” _And the entire tech department_ , he adds to himself. “You’ve guys had that whole “hate each other, but also want to get in each other’s pants vibe” going from the moment he showed up. It was that conference in Miami, wasn’t it?”

Dean nods. 

“Right, well according to my office pool, I’m the only one whose figured it out.”

“Your office what?” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Sam says meekly. “I’m just trying to tell you that I don’t think anyone else suspects.” 

Dean snorts, turning back to the TV. 

“You’re going to tell him?” Sam presses. 

Dean looks away. “Yeah, I’ll tell him.” He turns the TV back on. “Now can we get back to _Doctor Sexy_?”

“Sure, Dean,” Sam agrees, but he spends the rest of the night wondering what’s going inside his friend’s head. 

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Dean stares sourly at his salad, quietly stabbing at it, but refusing to bring to his mouth. His stomach turns each time he tries to take a bite and he’s been slowly trying to eat it for the last half hour. Sam sits across from him, cheerfully chatting away and Dean’s stomach turns at each word. He could kill for a burger right now, all greasy and warm and fatty. 

He moves his hand to his stomach where he can feel a slight bulge. It’s not entirely because of the baby, mostly, he thinks, just bloat from the mass amount of junk food he’s been eating in the last couple of weeks, but there’s enough there to make his pants tight, to remind that he can’t keep the fact he’s pregnant to himself for much longer. 

Hell, it’s amazing that he’s managed to keep it a secret for this long. He’s been using scent-blocking deodorant since the moment he found he was pregnant, and so far no one has mentioned a change in scent or even his now lack of it. His secretary knows better than to mention it, and Sam’s beta nose doesn’t quite have the power of an omega or alpha one, but he doesn’t even get a strange look from his other co-workers when he starts wearing it. 

Still, Dean’s not sure how anyone couldn’t look at him and not guess that he’s pregnant. Since the moment all those pregnancy tests came back positive, he’s been throwing up on daily basis and he’s just _so damn tired_. It should’ve been the missed heat that tipped him off, but Dean tried to rationalize it as a symptom of stress from work. It doesn’t matter really, ‘cause Dean was on a roll. He’d been firmly beating Novak in sales, like truly kicking his ass. For a couple weeks after that conference, life was going great. He was bringing in more clients, there were talks about another bonus and he was the closest he’d ever been to ideal weight. 

Then suddenly he’s constantly tired all the time, and he blames it on work, ‘cause Dean knows there’s consequences to his actions, knows there’s going to be a downside to all the good. He can barely get through a day without drifting off and he’s spending most of the workday counting the minutes he can check out and nap on his couch.

When the morning sickness finally hit, he didn’t lie to himself, didn’t pretend that it could’ve been food poisoning or a flu or something. As soon as he’s able to stand without bile rising, without his stomach turning, he books it to a Walgreens and buys out their entire selection of pregnancy tests. 

That was months ago, and Dean’s only getting sicker, tireder, and fatter, and yet there still only one person who knows he’s pregnant- and that’s Sam. Not even his mom knows, which is ridiculous, ‘cause if there’s anyone who might have knowledge and insight into what he’s going through, it would be his mom. 

But he can’t do it, can’t make himself pick up the phone and call her. He knows that, after all the yelling, his mom’s going to be so happy to hear she’s going to be a grandma, but there’s another part of him that thinks she’ll be more than pissed, _she’ll be disappointed_. Disappointed that Dean’s just another omega stereotype, knocked up and alone. Hell, the second feeling after he looked at the first positive pregnancy test, after, you know, being _terrified_ , was disappointment in himself, that he could fuck it up all so stupidly. 

He gently rubs the little pudge that’s there. He’s fucking terrified and nervous practically all the time, but it doesn’t really matter, ‘cause the moment he saw that tiny blurry blob on the screenhe thought, _I can do this. I can love and raise this baby on my own._  

There’s a second thought occurring deep inside him that reminds him constantly that he doesn’t have to do this on his own, that he could just tell Cas, could ask for support from his mom, but he shuts that down before he can really think on it. Yeah, he told Sam he would, but he doesn’t really want Cas in his life anymore than necessary. Really, does Cas _have_ to know? 

“Dean,” Sam snaps, breaking him out of his thoughts. “Dean.” 

“Yup, sorry.” 

“Are you going to eat that?” Sam says, eying the wilted salad that Dean’s been bringing up to his mouth for the last half hour. 

“Yeah, of course,” he scoffs, but his throat closes up and he can feel the bile rising in his stomach. He barely has time to drop his fork before he’s puking in the trash bin under his desk.

“Oh god,” he coughs out. 

Sam’s right next to him, patting his back. “You okay?” 

“I’m fine,” he groans, sitting up. “It’s just this… this stupid morning sickness. You’d think the baby would be happy about all this healthy crap.” He gently kicks the bin, thankful that he’s lined it so that his secretary doesn’t have to clean up after him. He’s pretty sure that after the first two weeks with morning sickness, she suspects that he’s got an eating disorder or something. 

“Dean,” Sam says gently, kneeling beside him. “You know you don’t need to stick to your diet now that you’re pregnant. Its good to eat what you want, gain a few pounds.” 

Dean scoffs at that. 

“What do you really want to eat?” 

“A burger,” Dean admits meekly. “And chilli fries.” 

A sour looks passes on Sam’s face, but he nods. “Okay, one burger and chilli fries coming right up.” 

 

By the time Sam comes back, Dean’s practically starving. His stomach rumbles loudly as Sam hands over the bag and he’s about five bites in before he looks up and sees a slightly astonished, mostly disgusted Sam staring at him. 

“Dude, really?”

“I’m hungry,” Dean mumbles through the partially chewed food, before taking another bite.

“Huh.” 

“What?” 

“Nothing,” Sam says, sitting back in his chair, “Just never seen you so, I don’t know, id-like before.” 

“What are you saying?” Dean stares accusingly at him, slurping at his soda drink.

Sam grimaces. “You know, you’re just so in control. You’re not usually like… this”. 

“It’s all those hormones ‘cause of the baby,” he says, patting his stomach. “It’s messing with my system. I accidentally turned my radio to a classic rock station this morning and cried when _Every Rose Has Its Thorn_ came on. It’s messed up.” He turns his attention back to his burger. 

He can feel Sam staring at him as he chews. 

“You haven’t told Cas yet,” Sam says quietly. 

Dean ignores him, just keeps chewing on his burger loudly. 

“Dean-”

“No, I haven’t,” Dean snaps. “I’m going to. Just not right now.”

Sam raises an eyebrow at him. “Really?”

“Yes.” Dean sighs. “Don’t really see the need to anyways. He’s not going to be part of this baby’s life.” 

“Because you think he doesn’t want to? Or because you don’t want him to?” 

“Because he’s just some alpha that knocked me up! It’s not like we even like each other. We had sex _once_ and we didn’t use protection. It was just a stupid mistake and I don’t need to drag Cas into my life because of it. I’m sick of dealing with him already.” 

“He’s gonna guess.”

“Let him.”

-

There’s something up with Dean, Castiel is sure of it.  

It’s not like he’s watching over him or anything. It’s just that Castiel knows Dean, has studied him and made note of him, something everyone does with a work rival, and he knows something is off with Dean. 

He’s just not sure how to mention it to him. Not sure how to ask after Dean. The way he behaved at that conference, the things he said to Dean, well, he’s sure Dean doesn’t want his concern, doesn’t want to speak to him. The only words Dean has said to him have been at meetings, though there have been pointed looks and remarks sent in his direction, all of which have said _Look at me alpha, look at me defeat you_. 

It’s overdramatic, for sure, but when he returned from the conference, Castiel just… mopes. The things he said to Dean, the way he reacted kept repeating in his brain, over and over again. He had fucked up, he could admit that. 

And it didn’t help that Dean was beating him in sales. No matter how hard he worked, no matter how many people he tried to charm, Dean was firmly beating him. 

It takes one pointed look from Dean, such an obvious gloat to snap Castiel out of his slump. Whatever happened that weekend had past and there’s nothing Cas can do about it. Quickly their relationship returns to what it was like before. Cas loves nothing more than the game that Dean and himself have created between them and he’s glad to return to it.  

But something else has also shifted. While they both play the game, they both refuse to acknowledge that they’re playing it. No longer are they confronting each other at every possible moment, no longer are they blowing up in the hallways of Sandover, ruining people’s lunches, screaming at each other until they’re both red in the face. 

Castiel kind of misses it. 

Instead, they ignore each other, each victory noted but unspoken. It’s a fair game until it’s not, because suddenly Dean just backs out of it, leaving Cas the only player on the field. 

It’s not even subtle, just one day, Dean turns up at meeting looking like he hasn’t slept in weeks. His tie is skewed, his eyes look blurry, and his hair isn’t gelled and Castiel hasn’t seen Dean like that since… well, since he woke up next to him. During that meeting, Dean drifts off and Castiel spends most of it watching him. 

First, Castiel is happy at this turn of events. Dean is many things, a good worker, a worthy opponent, but he’s also a smug self righteous winner and when Castiel _finally_ gets the upper hand, he can’t help but enjoy the feel of victory, of triumph over Dean.

It becomes less fun when Castiel realizes that the game is over and he’s still playing. 

And it doesn’t help that Dean looks increasingly sick. He’s seen Dean’s secretary leave his office holding a garbage bin that smells of vomit, seen Dean became increasingly pale during meetings before quickly excusing himself, has noticed that Dean’s been leaving early or missing work and now he’s just _worried_. 

He doesn’t say anything though, because they’re not friends, they’re not really anything to each other. Still, he worries. 

 

“Novak, I expect to see the Roman budget by Monday,” Zachariah concludes.

Castiel glances to Dean, whose head is ducked and whose attention is on the pen in his hand. Dean sits across him pale, clearly ill, and Castiel can see that whatever is wrong with Dean is affecting his performance, so much so that Zachariah has barely glanced over at the omega’s direction this entire meeting, let alone mention or praise his star employee. 

Usually Castiel would be happy at Zachariah’s lack of interest Dean. It’s largely known around the office that Zachariah had only hired Dean because of his weakness for omegas. There had been many sexual harassment suites filed against him, but most omegas who had raised a complaint had either been demoted or had quietly disappeared from the office.  

Not Dean though. Dean was so unlike the other omegas who Zachariah had hired. He wasn’t meek, wasn’t obedient, made enough fuss that Zachariah had probably realized he couldn’t manipulate or exploit Dean like the others. Still, this didn’t stop him from openly praising the omega, letting the entire office know that Dean only held this position because Zachariah let him, that Zachariah only saw him as his little pet.

The insufferable praise, the way Zachariah had so blatantly shown his favour for the omega had irritated Castiel, but he could admire the way the omega ignored the rumours and the jabs that surrounded him and his position, could admire how the omega worked twice as hard as most the alphas just prove himself worthy, how Dean had let both his co-workers and Zachariah believe that the favouritism was wanted, that Dean could be so easily manipulated by these people. 

Underneath it though, Castiel could see Dean for what he really was. He had watched Dean laugh at Zachariah’s jokes, only to roll his eyes when their boss wasn’t looking, watched the omega flinch whenever Zachariah touched his arm, but always returned the affection in kind, had watched Dean so easily play off the other alphas as distractions while he brought in accounts and rose in power. 

It should’ve filled him with rage, but watching Dean play by his own rules, not the ones that were so entrenched in Sandover, raised a competitive streak within him that Castiel didn’t even know he had. He refused to be manipulated so easily by Dean, had refused to see Dean just an omega and not as a competitor for accounts and clients like the others had, and he knew by doing this he sparked something within Dean that others could not. 

But watching Dean being ignored by Zachariah, watching the distain so clearly on their beta boss’s face moves something within him. He can barely focus on the meeting as he watches Dean grow paler and paler. 

“Novak!” Zachariah barks. This brings both Castiel and Dean’s attention back to him.“The budget.” 

“Yes. I’ll have it in by Monday,” he states, turning his attention back to Dean, whose only gotten worse in few seconds that Cas has looked away.

Zachariah keeps prattling on, but Castiel’s attention remains firmly on the omega across from him. It’s when Dean becomes slightly green that Castiel realizes the omega is going to be sick in the middle of this meeting. 

He’s on his feet and removing his jacket before he can even really think about what he’s doing. He reaches Dean just in time for the omega to turn and vomit onto his suit jacket. Quickly he gathers the omega and moves them out of the room, the door shutting on the disgusted exclamations coming from the board room.  

By the time they make it to the washroom, Dean’s done puking and Castiel gingerly places his jacket on the counter. He gently pushes Dean up onto the counter, grabs a paper towel and runs it quickly under the sink. 

“Here,” he says, handing it to Dean.

Dean shakes his head, keeping his eyes firmly closed. He sits take deep heavy breaths. The entire washroom begins to stink of vomit and distressed omega and Castiel reaches out and quickly wipes at Dean’s mouth. 

“Are you okay?” He says placing a hand on Dean’s shoulder. 

“Peachy,” Dean mumbles, leaning back onto the bathroom mirror. 

“You don’t feel like-”

“Hurling?” Dean peaks out of a blurry eye. “No.” He closes his eyes again. “Don’t know what came over me.” 

Castiel looks to the sink. “I don’t know, but it’s all over my jacket now,” he chuckles. 

The omega groans. “God, sorry about that.” 

“It’s not your fault. I’m the one who decided to sacrifice it.” 

It’s quiet for a moment, the only sound comes from Dean’s heaving breaths as the omega calms himself down. 

“Dean-” Castiel says, moving to touch the omega’s wrist. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Dean snaps, moving his arm away. 

Castiel looks up, only to see a tear fall down the omega’s face. He reaches out to wipe it away. 

“Dean, I’ve noticed you’ve been sick for the last couple of days,” he says firmly, but quietly. “Is everything okay with you?” 

He wets another napkin under the sink, carefully wiping Dean’s mouth again, his fingers so close to Dean’s lips it’s almost dangerous. He wishes he could kiss the tears that are silently falling on Dean’s face, wishes he could gather the omega in his arms and hold him till he felt better. Dean stares at him, his eyes firmly on his and he licks his lips quickly before turning away. 

“God, I fucked it up,” Dean says quietly. 

“In there? There’s been worse displays of behaviour,” Castiel says dryly. 

Dean shakes his head. “No, I mean-” he starts, but he shakes his head again and takes a deep breath. “Thank you, Cas.” He jumps off the counter. “I mean it.” 

The omega pushes past him to leave, but turns, eying Castiel’s jacket.

“Sorry about that. I’ll pay to have it dry-cleaned.” 

“Don’t worry about it. It was never my colour anyways.” 

Dean smiles, small and fleeting, leaving Castiel to wonder what just happened, what is happening.

By the time he leaves the bathroom, he has only one thought in mind- he’s going to figure out what’s going on with Dean even if it kills him.  

-

It’s not really his business if Dean tells Castiel or not, not really. Sam makes it his business though, because, even if he loves Dean like a brother, that omega can be so _stupid_ at times and Sam’s done subtly suggesting that Dean say something and he has moved on to outright nagging like they’ve been married for thirty years and Sam wants Dean to take out the trash. 

Dean ignores all this, ‘cause not only is he stupid at times, he’s down right stubborn, which is a dangerous combination. So Sam gives up trying, and instead just watches as Dean struggles, watches as the omega loses accounts, loses out on bonuses, and he really should do something, ‘cause he shouldn’t let his friend fuck up this much. 

“You’re not going to be able to hide it for much longer,” he tells Dean. They’re watching _Doctor Sexy_ again, ‘cause that’s the only thing Dean wants to do nowadays. Sam glances over and is surprised when he sees a baby bump so clearly visible on the omega. When Dean sits up, the bump disappears, but Sam knows that soon larger shirts and baggy jackets aren’t going to hide it. 

“The scent blocker will hold,” Dean mumbles, his attention still on the TV. 

“Yeah, but, Dean, you’re getting kind of….” he drops the word “fat” because he knows how much the omega worries about his weight. Instead he mimes a baby bump. 

Dean looks down at his stomach, a small smile appears. He lays a hand flat on his stomach, smoothing it over the bump. 

“Yeah, I’m not going to able to hide this little sucker for much longer,” Dean admits, though there’s some pride in his voice. “I’ll have to tell Zachariah.” 

“What about Cas?” Sam blurts out because he’s beyond being subtle. 

“I’m sure he’ll figure it out, he’s not that dumb.” 

Sam rolls his eyes. “You’re going tell him he’s the father right?”

“No. If he asks, I’ll just tell him some random alpha knocked me up. He’ll believe me,” Dean says bitterly. 

“Dean.”

“Christ, I’m so tired of hearing my name like that. He doesn’t need to know. My mom doesn’t even know yet!” Dean blurts out. Instantly he looks like he regrets saying that. 

“You haven’t told your mom yet!” Sam scolds. “Dean, are you going to tell anyone?”

“I told you,” he points out, crossing his arms. 

“Yeah, only ‘cause I guessed! That doesn’t count.” 

Dean turns away, his eyes hard as he stares at the TV. 

“Are you just going to show up with a baby in your arms for your family’s Christmas?”

“That sounds like a good plan. Thank you for that, Sam.” 

Sam takes a moment to remind himself that he can’t _strangle_ pregnant omegas, even if this one is kind of pissing him off. 

Sam breathes deeply. “You’re going to tell your mom, right?”

“Yes, of course,” Dean says, but he refuses to look at Sam when he says this. “Just waiting for the right moment.”

 

Sam decides not to pry anymore. This is Dean’s life and Dean’s decision, and it’s going to blow up in Dean’s face and not _his_. 

Except it doesn’t. 

Sam’s trying to help a returning customer turn on their printer one afternoon when he spots a fuming alpha heading towards his direction. 

“Sorry ma’am, I’ve got to go,” he says quickly, ending the call. 

“Sam Wesson,” Castiel Novak announces and the entire floor goes silent. “Can I talk to you?”

Charlie turns to him, worry clearly on her face. “Do you need my sword?” she says, holding up the “sword of office protection”. 

“No. I don’t think a foam sword is going help me.”

“I have a real one in my car,” Charlie offers. 

“Sam’s not going to need it,” Castiel sighs. “I just want to talk with him.” 

“If you’re not back in five, can I have your vampire figurine?” is all Charlie adds. 

Sam barely has time to mouth a “thanks Charlie” before Castiel pulls Sam towards the kitchen, using only a few alpha glares to clear it entirely. 

“I need to know what’s wrong with Dean. Is he sick? Is he dying?” 

“What the hell? No.” Sam pulling his arm away from Castiel. 

“But you know what’s wrong with him” Castiel states, he doesn’t ask. Christ, Sam shouldn’t be scared of him, the guy is barely at shoulder height, but Castiel is pure alpha when he’s mad and Sam just nods his head. 

“Yeah, I do.”

“You’re going to tell me,” Castiel says calmly, stepping back from Sam. 

“He’s my friend-”

“Which is why I’m asking you.” 

Sam doesn’t say anything, just looks away. 

“Do you like your job, Sam?” 

“No really,” he replies, surprised.  

“I can get you out of here if you just tell me what’s wrong with Dean.”

“You’re going to bribe me? Seriously?” 

“I’m offering you a favour for helping me. Please,” Sam swears he can hear the alpha’s voice break, “I’m begging you, tell me what’s wrong with Dean.” 

“Alright,” Sam snaps. “I’m not doing this for a bribe or favour, just to be clear. I’m doing this because Dean can be a stubborn jackass and I’m just saving him from himself.” He takes a deep breath. “Dean’s pregnant.” 

This clearly isn’t what the alpha’s expecting, because his mouth opens and his eyes widen and he stands there stunned for a solid minute or so. 

“Oh yeah, and you’re the father,” Sam adds quickly, because he might as well put in the second punch.

That snaps Castiel out of it. 

“What?” 

“Yeah dude, that’s why he’s been so sick lately. It’s morning sickness.” 

“Dean’s pregnant?”  

Sam nods. “And you’re the father,” he adds again. “Congrats?” he offers meekly. 

Never has Sam seen an alpha look so pale. _He’s gonna faint_ , Sam thinks, before pulling out a chair for Cas to sit on, pushing the alpha down. 

Castiel sits for a minute staring at his hands before looking up at Sam. 

“Was he ever going to tell me?” and there’s a part of him that sounds broken, sounds absolutely wrecked by this news. 

Sam should lie, should say something else, but he shakes his head. “I don’t think so,” he admits. 

“What do I do?” the alpha asks helplessly. 

“You should talk to him. You want to be part of the baby’s life, right?”

“Of course,” Castiel growls, his hackles raised.

“Then go talk to him,” he pats Castiel on the shoulder. “And congrats, man. I mean it.” 

Castiel nods and slowly rises. 

“Thank you Sam,” he says quietly and leaves. Sam follows suit, only to find the entire department staring at him as he exits the kitchen. 

“Dude,” Charlie calls out, “what did you do? Did you sleep with that alpha’s omega like the Ruby incident?” 

“God no,” Sam says quickly. “Let’s just say all that money in the pool belongs to me.” With that he turns to his cell phone. “I have to make a call.” 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, sorry about the space between updates, this is the first time I've ever posted a WIP and I clearly overestimated how quickly I can write. Thanks for the comments and kudos so far, every one of them keeps me writing.


	4. Chapter 4

_Pregnant._

This is the thought, the only thought, that runs through Castiel’s head. 

_Dean’s pregnant._

Castiel leaves tech support and heads straight for Dean’s office, barely noticing his co-workers as they pass by him. Zachariah could’ve told him that he’s getting all of Sandover and Cas still wouldn’t heard or, frankly, have cared. 

Dean’s not in his office, Castiel quickly finds out, and he only has to glance at Dean’s secretary before she telling him everything- that Mr. Smith has called in sick for the day- and Castiel barely has to lie to get a home address. 

He doesn’t even bother telling anyone, he just leaves.

 

Dean’s apartment building is large, luxurious looking, and involves heavy security. Still, it only takes a few glares and the scent of a worried alpha for Castiel to enter. It should worry him that security is so light, but he can only really think of Dean while he rushes upstairs, his heart racing at the idea that there might be a pregnant omega waiting for him. It’s only when he moves to make the first knock that he pauses. 

_What the hell am I doing here?_ he thinks. 

His fist drops. 

Really, what is Castiel doing here? It’s not like he has a plan. He’s not even really sure what he’s to say. Is he actually going to barge in there and demand answers? Really, what does Dean owe him? If their positions were switched and he had gotten knocked up by an alpha he hated, would he tell him? 

He’s about to back away from the door when he smells it. It reminds him of messy sheets, morning light, of sweating and panting, of a warm body that belonged so perfectly next to his. God, does he miss this scent. The smell of Dean. 

He knocks on the door. 

It feels like an eternity has passed before it opens and Dean is standing there, looking rumpled from sleep, wearing sweatpants and rubbing his eyes. 

“Uh, Cas?”

Cas had planned on being rational, being calm, but the scent of omega, _of pregnant omega_ , takes over him and he only has to glance down at Dean’s stomach and see that little bump covered by his thin t-shirt and the scent of Dean, which underneath holds something that is his, something that he helped put there, before he lets out a low possessive growl and barges in. 

He pushes Dean into a counter, clutching him, and scents him deeply. It’s not like he thought Sam was lying, but with his nose to Dean’s neck everything is confirmed and within him his heart beats a tattoo that hums of claiming, of possession, _of mine_. 

For a second, just a tiny little second, Castiel feels Dean clutch at him too, and maybe the omega even leans into his embrace. _Maybe this is how real couples react when they find out news like this_ , he thinks. 

Dean pushes him away. 

“What the hell man!” Dean exclaims.

“Sam’s right,” Castiel says quickly, “You’re pregnant.” 

Dean looks like he wants to deny it, but his face softens and his hands go to his stomach, shielding it away from him. 

“I’m going to kill that green giant,” Dean mumbles to himself.He sighs. “Do you want coffee?”

Castiel’s not sure what he wants, but he nods anyways.

“Are we going to talk?” he asks. 

Dean bites his lip, like he’s thinking something over. “I guess we’ll have to,” he sighs again. He looks wearily over to the couch and nods. “Take a seat.”

Castiel does, though he doesn’t really know what’s happening, doesn’t even register Dean’s movements until there’s a steaming mug of coffee in front of him and Dean’s clearing his throat. 

“So, we’re gonna talk?” the omega says meekly, a reluctant smile on his face. Cas can see that underneath it though the omega is trying to stay calm, trying to diffuse the situation, keep some form of control on it. 

Castiel nods, taking the cup. Dean settles next to him, his own hand clutching his own cup of what smells like peppermint tea.

Neither of them say anything for a while.

Cas wants to, but what can you say when you have no fucking clue what you’re doing? What either of them are doing. 

Dean’s hand taps on the armrest. He lets out a low whistle. 

“I was going to tell you-” he finally says. 

“No you weren’t,” Castiel says lowly, putting the coffee mug onto the table, the words tumbling out of him before he catch them. “That’s bullshit. Dean, how could you know and not tell me?”

Dean’s face turns slightly red and the air fills the scent of pissed off omega. He slams his mug down. 

“I was kind of busy freaking out about the whole being pregnant thing!” Dean protests. “Sorry, I didn’t include you right away.”

“You weren’t going to anyways,” Castiel snaps. “If I didn’t find out, if Sam didn’t _tell_ me, everything would be fine for you! You told Sam before you told me!”

“Oh yeah, like the fact I’m fucking having a _baby_ means everything is going to be fine. Not only that, I’m having _your kid!_ So even if I didn’t want to go through this whole thing alone, now I have to.” 

“What does mean?”

“Come on, you know.” 

Castiel nods, because he does. He’s had so many plans for his life and none of them included knocking up an omega who hates him. 

“You could have told me,” Castiel points out, but Dean looks doubtful. “It doesn’t matter how we feel towards each other, I’m going to help you. I’m going to be here for you and baby.”

Dean scoffs. “Great, so now I have some alpha whose only here out of some misguided sense of duty. Perfect,” he mutters. 

“Well, I’m not here because you like me,” Cas snaps back, getting off of the couch. “A thing you’ve made abundantly clear.” 

He looks down at Dean, watching the omega visibly shake. 

“Get out,” Dean says lowly. 

“Dean, we need to talk about this,” Castiel says quickly.

“And I said, get out.” 

Cas reaches out to touch Dean, to hold the omega until he calms down, until they both calm down, but, again, Dean pushes him away. 

“Don’t make me call security,” he says lowly. 

“Dean-”

The omega growls. “Can you just _go?_ ”

Castiel obeys, though he doesn’t want to leave, doesn’t want to do this all over again. He looks down at Dean, watching the omega curl up into himself, watching Dean protect himself from _him_.

“I’m tired,” the omega states quietly. “And you need to cool it. Can we talk about this later?”

Castiel nods. “Of course, Dean.” 

And he does what he promises, he leaves.

-

This is the second time in a day that Sam’s work place has been interrupted by a seething angry party whose looking for him, and frankly, it’s beginning to look a little unprofessional. 

Not that the tech department is known for its professionalism. Sam can count about twelve code violations from his desk alone, and that doesn’t even include the kitchen, which he’s been avoiding for the last month or so. Almost every other computer has some form of porn being played on it. Charlie’s been playing World of Warcraft on her computer for the last week and when she’s not doing that, she hitting random interns with her foam sword- sorry- T _he Sword of Office Protection,_ and Charlie’s considered one of the more reliable and _professional_ workers on this floor. Ian, known office supply thief and general slacker, has entirely forgone their uniforms and is currently wearing a shirt with “I Used Up All My Sick Days, So I’m Calling In Dead” written on it, so it’s not like Sam’s single-handedly making the department look bad. 

Still, he doesn’t really need this sort of drama happening to him during work hours. 

Of course, this time it’s an angry omega that interrupts him while he’s working (and by working he means googling if it’s possible for dogs to live forever). And not only is the person an angry omega, he’s an angry _pregnant_ omega, whose scent is filling up the entire floor, which is why the entire tech department is looking at Sam when he hears his name being called across the floor. 

He looks up to see Dean heading right towards his direction and suddenly Sam completely understands that expression about hell having no fury like an omega’s scorn. 

“Oh god, what have you done now?” Charlie hisses at him. “Is this that alpha’s omega you slept with? Did you impregnate someone’s omega?”

“I didn’t sleep with anyone’s omega,” Sam says quickly. Charlie shoots him a look “Not this omega anyways,” he amends. 

“What did you do?” 

Sam doesn’t have time to answer that before said seething angry omega is in front of him, looking like he’s ready to jump start armageddon with Sam as the first casualty. 

“How could you!” Dean yells. “How could you tell Cas? After I told you to leave it! And then you just had to stick your nose into it, didn’t you?” 

“Dean-”

“No, I don’t want to hear it!” Dean says, stabbing Sam with his finger. “Leave it alone!” He takes another stab. “It’s my life, butt out!” 

“He deserves to know!” Sam cries out, standing up. From this view point, he can see that practically everyone is looking at them. 

“Yeah, fine,” Dean snaps, “He did, but on my terms.” 

“And your terms were what? When you’re in labour? Your kid’s eighteenth birthday? On his death bed? When, Dean?” 

“On his death bed,” Dean says.

“Dean,” Sam states gently, reaching out to calm the omega. “You need his help. You’ve been so sick lately, you can barely work. And you can’t keep wasting all your sick days now. You’re going to need them when the baby arrives. Now that Cas knows, he can help.”

Dean mumbles something.

“What was that?”

“I said,” Dean rolls his eyes. “You’re right. I do need help… with all this,” he waves. Instantly the anger leaves the omega and Dean stands before him exhausted, looking like he hasn’t slept in months. 

Dean points to him, “But don’t let that go to your head, your hair is big enough already.” 

Sam’s mouth twitches with amusement before Charlie snorts behind them. “You’re telling me,” she says under her breath. 

Dean turns back to look at Sam, a big grin on his face before he sobers up and shoots him another death-glare.

“I’m still mad at you for telling Cas about the baby. You’re not off the hook for that.”

“Fine.”

“And you’re still obligated to watch _Doctor Sexy_ with me. Oh yeah,” Dean says, turning to Charlie and Ian, “he watches _Doctor Sexy_ and loves it.” 

Ian shoots Sam a look that says, _really?_ Charlie looks delighted by this news, almost too delighted. Sam shakes his head. 

“Of course,” he tells Dean, and he can hear his co-workers giggling behind him. 

“Stay out of my business,” Dean repeats.

“I will, Dean.” 

“I mean it, I will kick your ass,” the omega says, turning to leave. 

“Sure you will,” Sam calls after him. 

Charlie turns to Sam with that sort of manic look in her eye that makes him regret ever working here. “That was Dean Smith,” she states. “And, if I’m not mistaken, a pregnant Dean Smith.” 

“Charlie,” Sam warns. 

“And if I heard correctly, he was yelling something about Castiel. Sam, did you set Dean and Cas up just to win an office pool and did it just majorly backfire on you?”

“Of course not! They fucked it up by themselves. I had nothing to do with that part.”

“Which is why he’s yelling at you,” Charlie points out. 

“I didn’t say I was blameless. I may have told Cas about Dean being pregnant even after he told me not to.” 

“Sam!”

“He wasn’t going to do it, Charlie.”

“Remind me not to trust you with any of my secrets,” Charlie teases. 

“Yeah, like you’re that forthcoming.”

“Oh come on, Sam!”

“I don’t even know your real name!”

“I should have killed you after I told you that,” Charlie laughs, turning back to her computer. 

“Great, another person with a death-wish towards me,” Sam groans. 

“Hey, he’ll forgive you. Just give him time.” 

Sam scoffs. “You don’t know, Dean.” 

“It was kind of adorable, him yelling at you like that. Like he’s the Rocket to your Groot.”

“I’m not a talking tree.”

“A) He doesn’t talk and b) if you eat enough of those salads, you will be,” Charlie points out. 

Sam throws an eraser at her head. 

“Hey!” 

“Stop making fun of my salads.”

“Never! And if I don’t talk about that, I’ll have to talk about your secret _Doctor Sexy_ obsession,” she smirks. 

“I don’t even like that show!” Sam protests. 

“Sure you don’t.”

“I don’t! I only watch it keep Dean happy.” 

“Yeah, I’d hate to see what happens what you really think about his TV taste if that’s how mad he gets about you betraying his trust.”

“Yeah, well, if you think he’s mad at me now, wait until he finds out I called his mom,” Sam admits. 

Even Charlie doesn’t have a smart-ass reply for that. 

-

Dean’s sitting on his coach, staring at the phone in his hand with his thumb on the call button and Castiel’s number on his screen. 

He should call him.

But he doesn’t. He just keeps scrolling to his number though, thinking maybe, _just maybe_ , he’ll press the call button. 

When he can’t do that, he tries to text Cas.

_Can you come over?_

But their entire text history consists of asking what floor a meeting is on and just “FUCK YOU” sent a different times and for different reasons and Dean doesn’t want to break that. He can delete all his messages that but that won't erase the fact he would’ve texted Cas wanting something from him, something real and important and life-changing. 

He scrolls down to Sam’s number instead and texts him, _I’m still mad at you_

**You’ll get over it** , is the reply and Dean’s almost over it, so he can only reluctantly agree and scrolls back to Cas. 

He types out another message to Cas. 

_We need to talk, actually talk. Can you come over_? 

He’s just about to push send when a knock comes on his door. 

Part of him is hoping that it’s Cas, that Cas finally caved and has come over so they can actually deal with this. Another part of him hopes it isn't Cas, but Sam, whose come to hang out and watch crap TV while he mopes and whines at him. 

It’s neither of them. 

“Dean Michael Smith, you better open that door before I get Bobby to kick it down. You hear me?” 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up, there's a brief and vague mention of past abortions within this chapter

Sam is dead. Dead and buried. Dean’s not sure how he’s going to do it or where he’s gonna hide the body, but Sam is dead. 

“Dean!” his moms cries out again, knocking loudly on the door. 

“Jesus, Ellen,” he hears his dad mutter and before he can hear her response, he opens the door. 

“Mom, Dad,” Dean says weakly. “What are you doing here?” 

His mom gives him the evil eye to end all evil eyes. His mom’s mad, and not the blazing kind that she’s often is when she and Jo spend more than ten minutes together, it’s the icy-fury that brings a room down five degrees and leaves everyone numb. 

“Like you don’t know,” she says quietly, her eyes darting to his midsection, her eyes widening. 

She turns to Bobby. 

“Told you Sam wouldn’t lie about this,” she says with a nod. 

She looks back to Dean, and raises an eyebrow, waiting for him to invite them in. 

“Right,” he mumbles, reaching for her bags. “Come on in.” 

The door’s barely shut before the ice cracks and all hell breaks loose. 

“Dean Michael, you better explain yourself.”

Dean opens his mouth, but his mom keeps barrelling on. 

“You got yourself knocked up and didn’t tell me? Didn’t tell me about my grandbaby. I had to hear it from Sam!” 

Dean looks desperately to his dad. 

“Oh no,” Bobby says, his hand raised in protest, “You’re on your own. I had to listen to this the entire plane ride out here. I’m just getting my hearing back.” 

It’s probably a testament to how mad his mom is that she doesn’t call his dad out for that. 

“Dean, are you mad at us? Is there something we’ve done? ‘Cause I can’t understand why didn’t want us to know.”

“It’s not that,” he says quickly. 

“Oh, so you just forgot what a phone is for. Jesus, Dean, I thought I raised you better than this. Keeping secrets-”

“I was scared, okay!” he yells. “When I found out I was pregnant I panicked. And I’m sorry that I didn’t want to call you and tell you about what a fuck up I am-”

Instantly, his mom’s arms are around him, holding him tight. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” she says quietly into his ears and he can feel her shirt grow wet with tears, doesn’t even realize he’s crying until his mom mutters, “I’m going to take care of you.” 

“Ellen, let the boy go,” his dad says softly behind them and his mom pulls back, smiling. 

“You’re still in a heap of trouble.” 

 

His mom’s barely in his apartment for less than ten minutes before she starts cooking. Dean offers to help, but she just shoos him to the couch where his dad is watching football and drinking what’s probably the last beer in his apartment. 

“So that went well,” he says quietly, glancing over at his mom, whose peeling potatoes and blasting REO Speedwagon. 

“Surprisingly,” Bobby says gruffly. “Thought we’d be bringing home your scalp, she was so mad when Sam called.” 

“Can’t believe that little twerp told you guys.” 

“Can’t believe you didn’t tell us,” Bobby counters. “I know it’s scary and all, and from what I’d gather from Sam, it’s a messed up situation, but we’re your family, we can help.” 

“I know, Dad, I know.” 

They sit in silence. 

“So, you got yourself knocked up by Castiel Novak,” Bobby says, taking a swig of his beer. “Can’t say I’m surprised.” 

“What, you predicted this was going to happen?” Dean scoffs. “Then why’s mom so mad?” 

“Don’t be a smart-ass. I’m just surprised you actually acted on your little school girl crush.” 

“I don’t have a _crush_ on Cas!”

“Sure you do. Every time you called, it’s ‘Cas did this,’ and 'Cas did that.’.”

“It’s called complaining, Dad,” Dean rolls his eyes. “Cas is an ass.” 

“That didn’t stop him from getting in your pants, now did it,” his dad points out and Dean’s frankly amazed about how much pleasure the old guy is getting from this.

“Shut up and drink your beer.” 

He moves off the couch just so that he can’t see his dad gloat. 

“Seriously, mom, I can help,” Dean says, reaching for a knife. His mom slaps his hand away. 

“Don’t you dare.” She hands him the peeler instead and points to a stool. “You sit there.” 

He’s about to protest, but she shoots him a look that makes him sit his butt down and start peeling. They work in silence until his mom reaches out and turns down the radio before turning to face him. 

“How far along?” she asks quietly. 

“17 weeks.”

She nods. “Four months and you didn’t say a word.”

“Mom-”

She shakes her head. “It must have been a rough few months.” 

“Yeah,” he admits. “It sucked.”

“Morning sickness?”

“I threw up on Sam like five times. Ruined like twice that in shoes. I owe my secretary like five fruit baskets.”

That cajoles a smile out of her. 

“Good.”

“Mom!”

“Don’t mom me, Dean. If you weren’t pregnant I’d smack you so hard, you’d be seeing tweety birds for weeks. Nearly had a heart-attack when Sam called. Thought you were seriously ill or dead. And it’s all because you’re too stubborn to admit you like this Cas kid.”

“I don’t like him!” Dean protests. “I hate the guy.”

Ellen looks down at his bump. “Sure you do.” 

“I do!” 

“If you hate him so much, why this baby?” 

His stomach drops faster than those rides at amusement parks. He still hasn’t forgotten those late night calls to his mom, sobbing and begging for her and he knows she wouldn’t either. 

“At least with Benny, you were happy, you were in love,” his mom points out. “You two couldn’t keep your eyes off each other… or your hands.” 

“Yeah, and look how that turned out,” Dean scoffs, though he remembers how it felt to be young and in love and to think that forever was spelt out in the stars for them. He also remembers how it feels when people you love do you wrong or you do them wrong and suddenly you’re standing at a taxi cab saying goodbye, both of you pretending this isn’t the last time you'll see each other, and there’s love in your eyes, as well as hurt, but there’s also unspoken questions and blame, and your mind keeps repeating, _this is all your fault, this is all your fault_. 

His mom rolls her eyes. 

“Baby, I walked you into that clinic and I held your hand after and I knew it was the right thing. And I know you knew it was the right thing or you wouldn’t have done it. But that was with Benny and you two were so in love, so why this baby?”

Dean shrugs. Maybe it’s his age, maybe it’s because he’s in a better place in his life, not freshly out of college with only a penny to his name, living in a shitty rental, working equally shitty jobs while wondering if this is it for him, living with an alpha who loves him but who also knows they were both too young to claim each other.

“It seemed like the right time.” 

His mom nods and she presses her lips together tightly. “Don’t get me wrong, Dean. I’m happy about this baby, and I’m glad you are too. Just got yourself into a tight little situation, that’s all.” 

Dean’s about to reply with “Actually that was Cas,” but a knock on the door comes saves him from his big mouth. 

“You expecting company?” Bobby calls from the couch. 

“No,” Dean says puzzled as he opens the door. 

“You needed to see me?” Castiel asks, slightly breathless. 

“What?” Dean stumbles out. “What are you doing here?” 

“You texted me.” 

“No, I didn’t.” 

_Though I sure as hell was going to_ , he thinks. 

“So you don’t want to speak to me and I didn’t have to cancel my meetings to be here.” 

“Dean, whose that?” his moms says behind him and he curses all the gods and all the chances and Sam (especially Sam) for bringing this on him, ‘cause he’s not letting Cas met his parents now. 

Or at all, because they’re not a thing, even if this stupid little bump that Cas keeps staring at suggests they were at one point. 

Before Dean can say “Just the pizza man,” Cas steps into the apartment, his hand out stretched and a business smile on his face. 

“Castiel Novak, I’m the one who impregnated your son.”

Great, now he’s gotta find two places to hide bodies. 

“Huh,” his mom says, looking at Castiel’s hand, “Come on in. Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes.” 

Cas looks helplessly to Dean. 

“No,” Dean warns. 

“And if you disobey me and listen to my son, I’ll have your knot undone so fast your head will spin.” 

Cas is in the kitchen helping Ellen before Dean can even close the door. 

Dean huffs and drops himself onto the couch where Bobby’s still blissfully watching TV. 

“This must suck for you,” his dad mutters, attention still fully on the screen. “Glad I’m not in your shoes.” 

“Can it, old man,” Dean bites back, turning his attention the game. He glances back only to see his mom and Cas, head’s bent, quietly talking and he’s not sure if his mom is chewing him out, but Cas looks up and glances at Dean, and his eyes are questioning and not pleading for help, and Dean thinks that maybe it is safe to leave two alphas alone in the kitchen. 

 

Dinner is ready in the prescribed twenty minutes and Dean thinks he’s dreaming as he sets a spot for Cas at his dinner table as his dad sits at the head and his mom brings in a steaming hot meal over to them. 

There’s nothing better than his mom’s cooking and Dean eats like he hasn’t been throwing up for the last three months. 

“Christ, Dean, have some manners,” his mother says, though there’s some pride in her voice and she looks over to Bobby with a look of triumph. 

Bobby rolls his eyes and mutters “takes after you,” earning him the task of dishwashing. 

“If you don’t slow down you’re going to be sick,” Ellen tells him as he rips into another biscuit. He’s not really sure how his mom made this meal out of whatever in his fridge, ‘cause the last time he checked, there was only wilted lettuce and take out in there, but he’s thankful all the same. 

“Like that matters,” Dean points out. “I’m going to be sick no matter what I do.” 

“The morning sickness been that bad?”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” he says to his plate. 

“Dean threw up on me once during a meeting,” Cas supplies and Dean looks up to see Cas looking at him all worried, his eyes narrow like Dean’s a puzzle he’s trying to figure out.

“It was your coat, not you,” Dean points out and he looks back at his plate trying to hide how hot his face feels. 

“It was,” Cas concedes. “And I still didn’t figure it out then.” 

Dean can feel all eyes on him, and his mom coughs. 

“So Cas, what exactly are you planning to do about this situation? It’s your baby too.” 

“Way to cut around the bush,” Dean mutters. 

“Wouldn’t have to if you’d just trim it yourself,” his mom snaps back, but she’s smiling. She’s enjoying this too much. 

It’s Cas’s turn to be speechless, ‘cause all the Smiths turn to him and he just sits there, his mouth open, fork slightly raised. 

He drops the fork. “Uh, I would very much like to be part of the baby’s life. If Dean lets me.” 

All the attention turns back to him and he shoots Cas a death glare. 

“Dean’s not going to keep you from seeing your own kid,” Ellen points out, though she gives Dean an accusing look, challenging him to say something. 

“Of course not!” Dean protests. “I’m not a monster or something. If Cas wants it, he’s totally welcome to help raise this little dude.”

“Which is why you’ve been so forthcoming about this pregnancy,” Cas mutters quietly. 

It’s Ellen’s turn to shoot a death glare and Dean’s not looking forward to the talking to he’s going to get when Cas leaves, though by the way his mom looking at him, it might start now. 

And he ends it before it can begin.

“I’m tired,” he announces, standing up. “Mom, Dad, you know where the guest bedroom is. I’m going to call it a night. Cas, I’ll see you at work on Monday.” 

He moves to scramble off, but is stopped by his dad, whose holding something out to him. 

“Son, you forgot this on the couch,” he says, handing Dean his cell phone. 

Make that three spots needed to hide bodies. 


	6. Chapter 6

Dean wakes the next morning expecting to see three disappointed faces waiting for him, all of them with their eyes creased with worry, all of them thinking that they know what’s best for him, and all of them mad at him for acting out, for refusing to communicate. 

He finds, instead, his dad frying bacon, Willie Nelson blasting, and a game playing on a muted TV. 

It’s almost too good to be true. 

He heaves himself onto a stool, watching his dad hum to the radio as he dishes out bacon onto a plate and hands it to Dean. 

“Better eat up before your mom comes back,” he says gruffly. “You know she’ll kill me if she sees you eating this.” 

“Thanks, Dad,” Dean mumbles as he bites in. He moans as he swallows. There’s nothing in the world as good as his dad’s bacon, sweating with grease and brunt almost to a crisp. 

His dad nods with approval and sits next to him with his own plate filled with bacon, handing Dean a piece of toast. They eat in silence. 

“So where is Mom?” Dean asks, sopping up the leftover grease with his toast. 

“To hell if I know,” Bobby shrugs. “Running errands I’d guess. Long gone before I was awake.” 

“Was she mad last night?” he asks quietly, looking mournfully at his now empty plate.” 

“Worried more like. You know her, if she’s mad it’s only 'cause she scared.” 

“What does she have to be scared about? Is not like she’s the one going through this.” Dean’s free hand creeps to his stomach, resting lightly on the small bump there. “Hell, she should be happy. She’s getting a grandkid out of this. Isn’t that what she always wanted.” 

His dad lets out a frustrated sigh. 

“What she wants is for you kids to be happy,” he tells Dean. “She wants to make sure you’re doing okay, that you’re fine with this. She’s been through this before and she gladly helped you through it, hell she helped pay for it and what does she get this time? A big fat nothing. Not a word about what’s happening in your life, nothing about a baby. She had to hear about this from Sam, who, last I checked, works in the tech department, not as your personal messenger.”

Bobby grabs Dean’s dish from him and slams it into the sink. 

“Now I understand it’s been hard for you,” Bobby continues, turning to face him. “That you’re struggling, scared, and stressed. You know who’d understand that right now? Your mom. Hell, even I can relate. Having a kid is terrifying. It’s scary when you’ve been married for seven years and it’s planned and it’s scary when you’ve been knocked up by accident by some dick at work. You made your decision, you’re sticking to it, but you’re gonna have to face the fact that there are other people in your life that are affected by this decision. It’s not just you. Like I said, it’s been hard, but that don’t give you the right to take it out on your mother or on me for that matter.” 

“Jesus, Dad, you don’t understand-” Dean protests. 

“I understand plenty. Do you want me to bring out the balloons and streamers and throw you a pity party too? Come on Dean, I bet from the moment you’ve found out you were pregnant you’ve been sitting here moping, feeling sorry for yourself. But you’ve got a kid on the way, which means you’ve got to look after it and yourself and you’ve got people who are willing to help you, so cut the bull.” 

“Great, so you all think I can’t look after myself. That I’m going to screw up this kid.” 

Bobby rolls his eyes. 

“When are you going to get it through that thick skull of yours that all of this is because we care about you. That we want you healthy and happy.” 

“Which is why you texted Cas last night,” Dean snaps. “For my own good?” 

“So that’s what you’re really mad about,” Bobby says quietly to himself. “That I texted your boyfriend for you?” 

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Dean says automatically. 

“And that’s the problem, isn’t it. He’s not your boyfriend. Not your friend. Not anything to you.” 

“That’s right,” Dean says firmly. 

“Just the father of that baby you’re carrying,” Bobby points out. “And I may’ve not had that fancy Sex Ed like you kids did, but I know that it means that he was something to you at one point and that it means he's something to you right now, whether you like it or not.” 

Bobby sweeps past him at that, before Dean can protest. He winces at the slam of the guest bedroom door which leaves him alone and fuming. Doesn’t matter where his dad is coming from, he’s tired of hearing it. Tired of being reminded that he’s failing this pregnancy, tired of being reminded that this whole situation is fucked up and that he’s messing with people’s lives by doing this. (Not just messing, his brain supplies, ruining people’s lives). If Bobby hadn’t already slammed those dishes into the sink, Dean would’ve and he would’ve taken so much pleasure at watching them shatter. 

Of course, he’d still have to clean it up afterwards. 

Still fuming, muttering to himself, he cleans up the kitchen, picking glass out of the sink. Before he knows it, the entire kitchen has been scrubbed and he’s still standing there, red-faced and angry, when his mom walks in. 

“Jesus Christ, you’d think people forget their brains at home,” she says more to herself than to Dean as she places a large paper bag onto the counter. “Felt like I wasted half my life waiting for people to figure it out. “It’s not for me” I wanted to yell "You're right, I am too old". Just like when I was pregnant with Jo and I had to watch everyone else try and figure out if an alpha can get like that.” She pauses. “Dean, baby, are you okay?” 

Dean nods, though his hands are clenched and his face is burning and his eyes begin to blur. _He’s just so angry_. 

“Nothing,” he shrugs, placing a sponge back unto the sink's edge.

“Lord grant me patience,” his mom mutters. “Did something happen between you and Bobby?” She gives him this look that says, “Don’t lie, I can smell you from the first floor.”

“Yeah,” he admits quietly, looking at his hands. “We fought.” 

“Something really bad must’ve happened to set both of you off,” she says, methodically pulling bottles from the bag. 

“We fought didn’t we?” Dean points out, ‘cause him and Dad never fight, not really. Sure there’s times they butt heads, both too stubborn to see they were looking at the same picture, his mom would say, but if they fought it was bad. His mom and Jo were always clashing, from the very beginning their sameness had brought out the worst in each other and Dad and him always bonded over their neutrality in the wars that took place at their dinning room table- always had quick glances and concealed smirks that bonded them over the forces that are the Smith women. Dad and him, well Dean can count on one hand the number of times they’ve really got at it. 

“Oh baby,” Ellen says softly before she pulls him in for a hug. He breathes his mother in, the scent of a nurturing alpha, all comfort, all protection, all the feeling of home. 

“He’s worried, we’re all worried and that makes us act like fools. Shouldn’t barged in on you like this. Should’ve waited till you were ready," she says stroking his hair.  "You were going to tell us eventually?” she asks half-joking. 

“Probably,” Dean chuckles watery, pulling away. “Who knows.” 

“The two of you,” his mom chuckles. “Both of you too stubborn.” 

“Funny, he’d say the same about you and Jo.” 

His mom grimaces. “He wouldn’t be wrong,” she admits. “We’re a whole family of asses, all too stubborn for our own good.” 

Dean glances over to the counter. 

“What are those?” 

“Vitamins you’ll need. I noticed you were out,” she says carefully. 

Right, _out_ , not forgotten after his doctor prescribed them the last check up. He meant to buy them, really, but with work and just the general shit pile life has been handing him, buying them has completely slipped his mind. 

“Mom-” 

“No,” his mom shakes her head. “Don’t bother. I’m here to help you get back on your feet. Help you sort yourself out. Now go talk to your dad. Can’t have him leaving here with you still mad at him.” 

“So you’re leaving?” 

“Bobby is, he has class to teach on Monday.” 

“Christ, what about this time." His father had always been researching something, the entirety of the first floor (and then some) of his parent's house filled with books, papers, and articles about whatever had caught his dad's interest. Dean remembers the nightmares he had as a kid from accidentally opening a book about demons.  

“I don’t know,” she waves vaguely. “Something about South American folklore. You know I only listen to him half the time.” 

“What about you?” Dean asks suspicious, ‘cause the way she’s talking makes it seem like she’s not planning on leaving anytime soon and he loves his mom, god he does, but he’s not ready to live with her full time again. He shudders just at the memories of his seventeen year old self and his mom. 

“I’m going to stay with you.” She sees the panic in his eyes and adds quickly. “Just for a bit. I love you, but I’m not staying in Ohio permanently. God forbid. Like I said, until you’re back on your feet.” 

“What about the Roadhouse?” 

“Ash can look after it, he’ll be fine.” 

He shoots his mom a doubtful look. Ash is many things, a genius most likely, but he’s half betting on his mom coming home to a burnt down bar. 

“Oh that will go well,” he tells her. 

 

Bobby goes back that afternoon and Dean doesn’t take up his mom’s advice about talking to his dad about feelings and shit. Still, he willingly to drives his dad to the airport, making small talk about the cars his dad is fussing with in his spare time and how Jo’s doing with school. Neither of them mention the fight, still when Dean leans in to hug his dad goodbye, he mutters an “I’m sorry” in his ear. 

“Don’t be. I shouldn’t’ve interfered,” his dad says quietly back, before stepping back. “Take care of yourself,” he says gruffly. “And don’t let your mom drive you too crazy.” 

“I’m telling her you said that,” Dean warns. 

“Go ahead, she’ll have to come home to fight me," his dad grins. 

Dean can only hope so, ‘cause as soon as he back in the apartment his mom is bombarding him with plans, appointments and things she wants to do with him, all things she decided in the hour Dean’s been gone. He's almost thankful when Monday comes around. 

Almost, ‘cause storming in fuming and without his scent blockers has left the entire tech department with enough gossip for the building to run on when Dean walks in on Monday morning. Nobody says anything to his face, but he can see the pointed looks his way, can hear the muttering as he walks to his office, and can hear the snickering as he leaves a room.

“Got himself knocked up, not surprised, that’s how he made it so far. It’s not just those job positions that were opened. Another dumb omega bitch. Bet it’s Zachariah’s. Bet by having his spawn, he’s going to be set for life.” 

Strangely enough, the rumoured sire of his child, Zachariah hasn’t shown his face that Monday or the days following that. Dean expected to see the man at his door, asking questions in his slimy way, trying to get Dean to confess he’s pregnant without actually outright asking. Even without all these rumours spreading about him, he expects the beta to be there, hovering at his door like some bad ghost, ready to praise the omega and relish in Dean’s humbled response. 

Sam shows up like clock work on Monday though, meekly knocking on the door and Dean’s heard enough mutters and whispered “omega whore” as he walks through the halls of Sandover that he frankly doesn’t want to talk to the guy, so he gives him the silent treatment until Sam backs out, leaving Dean to eat his lunch in peace. He spends his break at his desk answering his mom’s frantic texts about plans she’s trying to make. It gets lonely after a couple of days, but instead of finding Sam and talking with him, he goes back to what he did before he met Sam- using his lunches to catch up on work. 

Not that there’s much work to catch up on. For some reason he doesn’t have as many accounts as he did on Friday. Usually he’s working till eight or nine at night, long after most people have gone home, to manage it all. Usually it's just him and Cas on the same floor, both of them pretending they’re not there to spite each other. Now almost all the accounts have dwindled away and he’s checking out before five. Hell, even Sam’s working later than him. 

It should bother him, but it’s kinda a blessing. Even with this new work load, he’s exhausted, barely able to make it to four without the need for sleep taking over. Plus, he’s coming home to dinner already for him and a mom whose there to talk to him before he passes out at nine. It’s kind of lame, but at least he’s not strugglingly to make deadlines or to keep his eyes open during meetings. On top of that, his morning sickness has largely died down, though it’s been replaced by whole other set of discomforts the further along he gets in his pregnancy. 

First, there’s the constant need to pee, which doesn’t make sense ‘cause the kid’s the size of what a mango? The omega baby site says it’s a _large mango_. Still apparently mangos can do lot of damage to his bladder and he’s up an uncountable number of times during the night. Second, there’s the general swelling, not of his stomach, which is another story all together, but things he’d never expected like his gums (his gums!), his feet, which means the shoes he _just_ bought no longer fit him. Neither does his clothes, which frankly sucks, ‘cause he spent a fortune to look good and now he looks like the Stay Puff Marshmallow man in nice duds. He can’t button his pants anymore and the swell of his stomach makes the buttons on his shirt pucker. 

“I’m so fat,” he whines as he looks at himself in the mirror. His last fitting pants (formerly known as his “fat” pants from his previous diet days) are tight and he has long stopped wearing a belt. 

His mom peers over her glasses at him. “Wait till you hit the third trimester,” she responds drily. “If you think you’re fat now.” 

Dean moans, flopping down onto the coach next to her, his hands automatically cradling the now unmistakable bump that’s there. He’s pregnant all right and everyone knows it too.

“This sucks.” 

“It does,” his mom hums with agreement, flipping through her magazine. 

“Aren’t you supposed to say it’s all worth it in the end and all that crap.” 

“Still not sure about that,” she mumbles, a ghost of a smile on her lips. 

“Thanks,” he huffs. 

“Oh no, not you. Your sister though…” She pats his hand. “But I think that was mostly Bobby’s fault.” 

She places a hand onto Dean’s stomach. “Any movement yet?” 

“No,” Dean says mournfully, peering down at the bump. “You’d think with all this swelling and all the aches and pains there would be some actual evidence that there’s a baby in here,” he taps his stomach, hoping for a response. He just gets radio silence. 

“Any moment now though,” his mom reminds him. 

“Yeah, I know,” he mumbles, his fingers absently tracing the bump. 

His mom kisses his forehead. 

“Don’t worry, soon you’ll be wishing the opposite,” she laughs. 

 

Two weeks after the arrival of his mom, Sam shows up at his office again, knocking loudly and with a determined look that says he’s not planning on leaving anytime soon, and, hell, if Dean didn’t miss the big guy, so he nods and watches as Sam eagerly bounces in like he's a golden retriever or something. Sam barely has his salad out before Dean feels like it’s the old days again, long before Sam totally ripped Dean’s life apart, good intentions, roads to hell, yada, notwithstanding. Instead, by some unspoken agreement, the topic is never brought up. Until his phone goes off. 

“Dean,” his mom states loudly through the phone. “You think you can get out of work early next Wednesday? There’s been a cancellation and your doctor has a spot free for the ultrasound.” 

“Sure,” Dean tells her, though his stomach knots at the thought, ‘cause doctor appointments are one thing, ultrasounds are another. 

“Your mom?” Sam asks when Dean hangs up. “She's here?”

“Like you didn’t guess she’d come running the moment you squealed about me being pregnant.” 

Sam has the decency to look ashamed. 

“Dean-” he begins. 

“Don’t worry about it. You only did the thing I was too scared to do,” he admits. “It wasn’t like you were purposely trying to make my life hell.” 

“Dean, I’m so sorry,” Sam gives him a look mournfully enough that Dean’s only half sure he let a full grown man into his office and not, say, a dog. 

“Stop, stop, I forgive you,” Dean rolls his eyes. “As long as you never make that face at me again.” 

Sam shrugs and goes back to eating his salad. Dean rolls his eyes, turning back to his computer. 

“Great,” he mutters. 

Sam looks up. “What?” 

“Another one of my accounts is apparently closed. Three guesses on who did that.” 

“Have you talked with Cas since that whole…” Sam gestures vaguely. 

“Kind of,” Dean admits. “Had dinner with him.” 

“You’re kidding me.” Sam looks slightly stunned by this. “Really?”

“Happened the same night my parents showed up. My dad texted him and he just shows up at my door and, get this, told my parents he’s the one who 'impregnated me'. So that was nice.” 

Sam nearly falls off his chair from laughing so hard. 

“Really?” he coughs, strugglingly to stay upright. 

“Honest to god,” Dean smirks. “Thought my dad was going to punch him. Didn’t stop my mom from inviting him in though.” 

“Oh I’m sure that went over well.”

“Swimmingly,” Dean snorts. “You know, up until my parents started to grill him about what he was going to do about the whole situation. Was he going to be an alpha and step up and take responsibility for the baby?” 

“And…?” 

“He said that he would.” Dean scoffs. “Only said it ‘cause he felt pressured to. Thought it was the right thing to say. Not like I asked him to.”

Sam rolls his eyes. 

“Or maybe he does want to,” Sam points out. “He seems like the type.” 

Dean shakes his head. “Probably just felt obligated, that’s all.” 

He can see the look of doubt on Sam’s face. 

“Look, that was two weeks ago and I haven’t heard anything from him since. So we’re just going to leave it.”

Sam opens his mouth. 

“Leave it.” 

 


	7. Chapter 7

Castiel stares blearily at the elevator, begging for it to open. He can barely stand and he feels like he’s being dragged to hell slowly and painfully by lack of sleep.

Maybe he should let up on a client or two, transfer them to someone else who doesn’t have as much on his plate, someone who isn’t already on top of sales and marketing as it is, but he also wants to prove he can handle the responsibility, that he can step up when he needs to. 

So far, he’s been failing at that miserably. 

He might’ve passed out for a minute or two because there’s a body standing to next to him, as well as the smell of a pregnant omega that has begun to fill the air. _Dean_ , his brain supplies unhelpfully. 

“Novak,” he hears beside him and he blinks three times before he remembers to turn his head and nod. At least he thinks that what he does, because Dean is just staring at him, looking slightly worried. 

“Are you okay?” the omega asks carefully, like he thinks Castiel is going to snap at him. 

Castiel nods again, though, once again, he’s not really sure if his body is doing what his brain asked. 

“Just peachy,” he replies. God, he would kill to be in bed right now. 

“Yeah, I can tell,” Dean murmurs. “That’s why you look like shit.”

There’s enough concern in Dean’s voice to convince Castiel that the omega is not _deliberately_ trying to provoke him, that he’s actually genuinely concerned for him. If Castiel wasn’t exhausted, he’d be sort of touched. 

“I’m not getting enough sleep,” he admits, thankful as the elevator dings and the doors open. 

“No shit,” Dean says as they both step in and both their hands go for the ground floor button. “Early night?” 

“For once,” Castiel says before he can stop himself. God, he needs sleep if he’s letting all his defences slip this easily. 

Dean glances to his watch. “Leaving before four, that’s gotta be some kind of record for you. Haven’t seen you leave the office before seven the entire time you’ve been here.” 

Castiel hums, his eyes closing slightly and he feels Dean’s hand on his shoulder as he jerks awake. “What.” 

“Dude, you’re not driving home like this.” 

“I am,” Castiel states firmly. 

“Let me call you a cab or something.” 

Castiel shakes his head. “No, I’ll be fine,” but he doesn’t protest when he sees Dean pull out his phone. 

The call is completed by the time they reach the ground floor and Castiel can no longer see more than three feet in front of him, his vision blurring and his eyes closing automatically as he walks. 

“I would’ve given you a ride,” Dean says behind him, “but I have… something.” 

“It’s fine,” he slurs and he feels Dean reach for his arm, steadying him gently as they reach the doors. He lets the omega steer him to a section of chairs in the reception area, before he collapses into them. 

He can just scent Dean hovering next to him. 

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” he inquires wearily, not out of rudeness, but rather curiosity.

“My ride's not here yet,” Dean replies politely, though his voice is strained like it hurts him to admit this information and he doesn’t look up from his phone.

“Ah.” 

Castiel tries to drift off, his eyes close and he waits for sleep to take him in a second, but the scent of rising anger jerks him awake and he opens his eyes blearily to see what has caused such a quick change in scent. He sees Dean standing with a folder in his hand, in takes a second for Castiel to realize that it must be one of his folders, one that must’ve been peaking out of his brief case. 

“Jesus,” Dean says under his breath as he flips through the file. 

“Dean-” Castiel begins to explain. 

“No,” Dean snaps. “No, don’t ‘Dean’ me like you don’t know what you’ve done, like you don’t know what you’re doing.” 

He slams the folder on the table between the two of them. 

“You’ve been taking my accounts. Ones I’ve been working on for months,” the omega mutters. 

Castiel is so tired, so tired of this rage, so tired of this job, so tired of waiting for Dean to let him in. It’s been three weeks since the last time they talked and it always ends up here. He knew what he was doing though, and he’s been waiting for this, waiting for the inevitable confrontation that happens whenever he tries to do something for Dean. 

Part of him welcomes it, because it’s almost like the old days, before the conference when they would have it out on a daily basis and there was nothing between them like hotel bedrooms and the sound of Dean’s sex-wrecked voice saying his name. Nothing like a baby between them. 

He’s too tired for this though, so he can only blink a couple of times as he reads the folder name. 

“That seems to be an account,” he says before his brain can stop him. “One I closed this morning.” 

Dean rolls his eyes. “No shit. Why did _you_ close it?” 

“It needed to be closed,” Castiel supplies. “That is the point of them.” 

He can practically see the omega seethe with anger, but underneath the rage he smells something else, something sweet, something pure, something perfect. 

“Don’t you have enough accounts? Christ, why don’t you bother Sullivan, since he can barely handle the three he’s got. Leave mine alone.” 

Castiel barely registers this though, ‘cause Dean’s scent just smells so good. Mixed with sleep deprivation, he doesn’t even realize that he’s standing or that he is stepping forward as he tries to breathe it in, tries to capture whatever it is that he can smell. 

“Um… Cas,” Dean says and Castiel looks up. He’s practically nose to nose with the omega. “Personal space.”

“Right,” Castiel mutters, taking a step back. “It’s just… I believe I can smell the baby.” 

Dean’s face is red and he looks slightly stunned by the news. 

“Yeah?” he sputters. 

Castiel takes another deep breath. 

“Yes,” he says firmly. “It’s odd, I can see the physical changes that it has brought to you.” He gestures to Dean’s belly. 

For the most part, Dean has hidden his growing shape by the blazers he wears, but Cas has caught glimpses, has eagerly sought evidence that his child is growing within Dean. He did mean what he told the Smiths about being there for Dean and he’s been trying his hardest to keep up with the pregnancy in whatever ways he can. 

“Thank,s Cas,” Dean says sarcastically, snapping Castiel’s attention back to the room. 

“I meant to say that I’ve noticed _small_ changes.” Dean rolls his eyes. “But there hasn’t been any other evidence that you’re with child. Not until now.” 

“I know what you mean,” Dean admits, his hand reaching up to cradle his belly. “Didn’t know you can scent it on me though.” 

“Barely, but it’s there.” 

Dean nods, a smile ghosting on his lips. He clears his throat and holds up the file again. 

“Anyways,” he shakes his head. “Stay out of my accounts.” 

“I’m just trying to help,” he points out. 

“By stealing my accounts?” 

“By taking some of the load off of you. You’ve been struggling, I’d gathered, with coping with the pregnancy and with your work load. I thought this would help.” 

“Thought this would help?” Dean sputters. “You thought _stealing_ accounts from me would help.”

“And it has,” Castiel points out. “You no longer stay in your office until nine at night. You’ve been leaving work at a decent time,” he nods to the door. “And I suspect you’ve been able to get some much needed sleep because of this.” 

“Which is why you look like shit-‘cause you’re taking on too much. How late do you leave the office at night? What time do you get here? Do you even leave?”

“Dean,” he protests weakly. “Don’t worry about me.” 

“I’m not worried about you,” Dean snaps. “Just don’t need you taking all this on ‘cause of some misguided sense of duty. I’ll be fine.” 

“You’ve been keeping me out of this pregnancy, so this is the only way I can help you.” 

“Christ, just leave it alone. I don’t need your guilt too.” 

“I’m not trying to guilt you, I just want to be some part of this pregnancy.” 

Dean looks like he’s about to protest before he snaps his mouth closed, his eyes focused on an oncoming alpha. 

“Mom,” he says and Castiel turns to see Ellen approaching them. 

“Dean,” his moms says, her voice tinged with worry. Castiel pauses and sniffs the air, realizing that the entire lobby now smells like agitated alpha _and_ omega and he looks to his shoes, submitting to this new alpha. He’s tired, not stupid, and he’s not starting a fight with a mother alpha. 

“Mrs. Smith,” he says politely. “How are you?”

Ellen pauses and shoots him an accusing look before glancing at her son. “I told you to call me Ellen. Are you here for the appointment?” 

Dean looks panicked, his eyes widening and he pulls at his mom’s sleeve like he’s five years old. “We should go.” 

“Take it he didn’t tell you,” Ellen surmises, giving her son a dark look. “We’ve got an ultrasound appointment soon. Going to finally see my grandbaby. Want to join?” 

Castiel glances quickly to Dean, whose purposely avoiding eye contact with him. He knows the omega doesn’t want him to go, but when he looks back at Ellen, he sees a look of determination that tells him he doesn’t really have any choice in the matter either.

“Yes,” he say sheepishly, ignoring scent of pissed off omega that flares up at him. 

“He’ll need a coffee,” Dean states to his mother. “He was going home to get some needed sleep,” he says pointedly. 

“He’ll be awake soon enough,” Ellen says firmly, ignoring the hint, as she turns to leave. Castiel looks apologetically to Dean, but the omega only glares at him before turning around to follow his mom. 

-

This fucking sucks. 

It’s not just the car ride to the doctor’s office that sucks, although Dean’s pretty sure he’d had entered some level of hell for that. Uncomfortable is only a _slight_ understatement for that entire experience. Nothing like crowding two alphas into his Prius to really point out how fucked up of a situation this all is. Plus, with everything that’s happening, Dean reeks, clouding up the entire ride there with his scent thanks to a mix of nerves (‘doesn’t matter how many times he’s been there, hospitals are _scary_ ) and also a general feeling of being pissed off at both his mom and Cas, his mom for inviting Cas along and Cas for accepting. Though he tried to calm down before the hospital, his mom has to take him aside before they enter and talk to him about his attitude before they go in. 

Cas is so clearly out of his element, which normally would be hilarious to Dean, but even the panicked looks that Cas keeps giving him as they both survey the waiting room does very little to ease him. This is too much, he thinks, too intimate, too much of a confirmation that they’re both in this thing together, whether they (and it’s mostly Dean) like it or not. 

“Dean,” Cas says, sounding like he’s choking on something, his eyes wide as he takes in the numerous omega pregnancy posters that have graced the room. 

“I know,” Dean says unhelpfully. “It’s like all kinds of freaky.” 

All of this must be messing him up, ‘cause he doesn’t even realize he’s holding the alpha’s hand until a nurse calls him up. 

Thank god the nurse doesn’t say anything as both his mom and Cas stand up to follow him. She just smiles and puts them into a room and tells them the sonographer will be there in a few minutes. 

Dean eyes the ultrasound machine and he can feel the panic rising within him again, his stomach tightening and turning. This is too much, way too much. 

The door opens and the sonographer comes in and there goes Dean’s chance of escape. 

“Hello Dean,” the sonographer says cheerfully to him. She looks up from her clipboard to see two alphas staring at her. “And who do we have here?” 

“This is my mom,” Dean points to Ellen, who nods, “And this is…” he falters as he turns to Cas. 

“Your alpha?” the sonographer beams.

“No,” Dean blurts out, at the same time as Cas. He glares at the alpha, whose face has gone red and he can feel the frustration radiating from him. At least they’re on the same page with that. 

“He’s the father,” his mom adds helpfully, though she gives both Dean and Castiel pointed looks, like she’s waiting for one of them to challenge her. 

“Oh-kay,” the sonographer says, though Dean can tell she’s curious, probably not a lot of unmated omegas come in with their baby-daddies in tow, since god-forbid, an omega remains unmated. “Right, well, Dean, just lay down there,” she says, pointing to the exam table, “and we’ll get right at it.” 

He takes a deep breath before he lies down on the table. His mother and Cas crowd in next to him and he wonders if there’s anyway he make them go away by will alone. 

“Dean,” his mom nudges him. 

“What?”

“You need to pull up your shirt, Dean,” the sonographer tells him. 

“Uh…” he glances to Cas as his hands skirt the hem of his shirt. Obviously he has to do this, has to show his stomach, ‘cause that’s the only way he’s going to get his sonogram, but does it really have to be in front of Cas? The last time Cas had seen that general area they were both too drunk and Dean didn’t care if his stomach was sort of flabby (especially when compared to the alpha’s- he remembers all too clearly the feel of Castiel’s torso beneath his hands), but this whole baby business has completely highjacked his body and he’s stretched out and being pushed way past his ideal weight (a goal he wasn’t even at before he got pregnant). 

“Dean,” his mum says quietly again, her hand on his shoulder. “Baby.” 

“Right,” he mumbles, taking another deep breath, before pulling his shirt up. He focuses his attention firmly on the machine beside him and not the two alphas on his left.Still, he hears the intake of breath from Cas and his face burns as he turns to the sonographer whose holding the gel. 

“It’s going to be cold,” she reminds him.

“Yeah, I remember that part clearly.” 

The sonographer chuckles as she rubs the gel onto Dean’s stomach. He’s so focused on this he doesn’t notice the _wump-wump_ of his baby’s heartbeat right away or the collective gasps that he hears beside him. 

“There’s your baby,” the sonographer beams at him as she moves the transducer over his belly. 

And there it is, in all its black and grey glory. 

“That… that’s…” _Amazing? unreal? Terrifying?_

“Better formed than last time, huh?” 

“Hell yeah,” Dean blurts out, ‘cause the last time he was there he had heard his baby’s heartbeat, but he had looked at a mostly empty screen and felt this great disconnect between the image and the sound, knowing that there was something growing in him but not really seeing it. Now he’s looking at a baby, _his baby_ , and there’s no doubt that it’s a baby now, something he’ll be holding and caring for in near future, almost too soon. He forgets to breathe 

“Oh my god,” he hears his mother whisper beside him and he glances over, a big grin on his face. 

“Look, grandma,” he laughs, and oh god, if his mom doesn’t just tear up right there. 

But that’s nothing, ‘cause he looks quickly to Cas and just sees a stunned alpha sitting there, his eyes wide and his mouth opened. Dean can see how overwhelmed the alpha is with all this, but also how awed he is and he’s pretty sure he’s watching someone fall in love. 

“Oh god, I’m stuck with two crying alphas,” Dean jokes, though his laugh is shaky and his eyes sting. 

“Shut up,” his mom chuckles watery, “that’s my grandbaby.” 

“Damn right it is. Pretty neat, eh, Cas?” he beams. 

“Amazing,” the alpha says softly, his eyes glued on the ultrasound. “Thank you, Dean.” 

 

Everything is looking good according to the sonographer before she sends them off with a couple of sonograms and the promise that more will be emailed to them in the near future. Dean’s mom chats rapidly in the car, her excitement obvious and oblivious to him. He’s too busy staring down at the image in his hand- _his baby_. It takes the slam of a car door to bring his attention back to the real world. 

“Thank you, Mrs. Smith, for driving me home,” Castiel through the window. As his mom tells Cas to call her Ellen again, he quickly looks over to Dean, his expression filled with worry, but also wonderment. 

“I’ll walk you to the door,” Dean says impulsively, as he jumps out of the car as quickly as he is can. 

He’s not really sure what he’s doing, but when he gets to the door he hands Castiel a sonogram. 

“Here,” he says, shoving it into Cas’ hand. 

“Dean…” 

He can feel the alpha’s eyes on him. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he blurts out and runs back to the car. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every time I post a chapter, I swear to myself I'll have one out for next week and then life happens and more than a month goes by and I'm embarrassed frankly about how long this took to post. Fear not though, this story is not abandoned! It's all planned out, I'm just kind of lazy at the whole writing down the actual words part.


	8. Chapter 8

He’s not sure why he’s in Cas’s office or what they’re fighting about. He doesn’t remember even entering, but he’s here, fists clenched and with the urge to punch someone surging through him. 

Worst though, he’s not sure how they got so close or why they’re standing nose to nose. 

Cas licks his lips, his eyes darkening as he stares at Dean, and the entire office fills the with the scent of aroused alpha and something else. 

_Oh shit, that’s me_ , Dean barely registers before he feels the slick leaking down his legs and his entire body feels like it's being consumed by fire. 

He tugs at his collar, trying to get some air- a mistake he realizes when he hears the low possessive growl of an alpha before he feels himself being slammed face first against the desk and Cas pressing close against him. 

“Fuck,” he hisses as Cas reaches down and unbuckles his belt, slowly dragging it from his hips before he begins to tug at waist of Dean’s pants. As he does this, the alpha grinds against him. Dean can barely speak. 

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to this?” Cas asks, gently nipping at his neck. The alpha’s voice is loud and clear and Dean wonders for a second if Cas’s secretary can hear them- hell if the whole floor can hear them. He should feel embarrassed by this, but a hand wraps around his cock and all thoughts leaves his head. 

“Do you know?” Cas repeats as he slowly and carefully pumps Dean’s cock. “How many times I’ve wanted to push your little arrogant ass against this desk and teach you some respect?” 

Cas’s grip tightens and a soft whimper leave Dean’s mouth.

The alpha takes a shaky breath but presses closer and harder against Dean. 

“I thought so,” the alpha says smugly and Dean whimpers again as he feels Cas’s hard cock pressed against him. Dean tries to move his hip, tries to get the alpha to grind against him, for him to feel something against his ass, but he’s punished for this when Cas lets go of his dick and uses his now free hands to pin Dean's hips firmly against the desk. 

“Did you want something?” Cas asks, clearly satisfied by the omega’s reaction. He slips his hand back down Dean’s pants, his hands reaching between his legs before pressing a finger into Dean. “Do you want my cock?” 

“Fuck”, Dean hisses as he feels the alpha's finger trying to stretch him out, trying to ready him, but it only makes him feel empty, only makes him want more.

“Do you like that?” Cas teases, his fingers slipping in and out of Dean. Dean bites down another whine as Cas presses into his rim. 

“You like how that feels? How my fingers feel inside you?” The alpha kisses Dean’s neck with each question. “Like the idea that I can take you apart with just that? You need something more? I remember what a greedy little omega you become on just the thought of a nice big alpha cock…”

“God yes,” Dean gasps out. “God, alpha, I need it.” 

“I bet you do.” Cas tugs Dean’s pants and briefs down. Dean behind him, feels Cas shift and the press of the alpha’s cock hard against him, along with the coolness of a belt and the feel of Cas’s pants on his bare ass. 

“I’m gonna fuck you against this desk, just like you want it. Just like you’ve wanted me to do since the first day that I started here.” 

“Yes, alpha,” Dean begs. "Please."

“You’re such a good omega,” Cas whispers and Dean feels the weight shift behind him as the alpha lines himself up and the tip of Cas’s cock just about to enter him-

And his alarm goes off. 

“Fuck,” Dean mutters as he hurries to shut it off. He wants to curl back into bed, but he can feel the slick leaking out of him, as well as the feeling of emptiness and the need to be filled coursing through him. 

“Fuck,” he says again, because really this is his life. He’s pregnant and horny and he just had a _sex dream_ about his work enemy/ baby daddy- a man he’s gonna have to face in an hour or so. 

Despite the reek of desperate, needy omega in the room, he can still smell bacon burning and he can hear the clattering of dishes, which means that his mom is awake and that she’s expecting him up soon. He prays, as he struggles out of bed, just prays that he can sneak into the bathroom without her smelling him. 

He thinks he’s gotten away with it, since, after taking what he thinks is a non-suspicious amount of time in the bathroom, he enters his kitchen to find a glass of orange juice and a plate of bacon waiting for him, as well as the pills he needs to take, and his mom’s back turned away from him, her attention entirely on the laptop in front of her.

“Good morning, mom.” 

It’s kind of funny watching his alpha mother jump in her seat. 

“Dean,” she gasps, quickly exiting whatever page she’s reading. “Don’t scare your mother like that.” She cuffs him gently on the head as she closes the laptop. 

“Here,” she says, pulling out a brown paper bag and Dean eyes it. 

“You don’t have to make lunch for me.” 

His mom scoffs. 

“What? I can’t spoil you while I’m still here? Can’t have you going hungry.” 

“I did fine before you got here,” Dean points out. 

She looks at him doubtfully, but places the bag back into the fridge, telling him it’s for later. There’s no doubt the fridge is stuffed right now with all sorts of meals she cooked up for him in the last few days since she’s booked her flight home. She’s leaving tonight, thank god. He loves his mother, he really does, but he’s also a full grown man and he doesn’t really need his mother as his roommate. 

“Did you send Cas the sonograms?”

Oh yeah, and he’ll be glad when the constant hovering is safely contained five hours away. 

“Yeah,” he says vaguely, shifting in his seat as the image of the alpha shoving him against a desk flashes in his head. Just the memory makes his cheeks heat up and he ducks his head as he digs into breakfast. 

Clearly Dean’s reluctance to look his mom directly in the eyes means he’s hiding something, ‘cause he feels a gaze upon him and looks up to see his mom staring at him with her “don’t fuck with me, boy” look on her face. 

“You did, right? If I emailed him now, would he tell me the same thing?” 

“You have his email?” Dean whines. “How’d you get that?”

“I don’t-“ Dean slumps back with relief. “But I can get it from the company website like that,” she tells him, snapping her fingers. 

“God, I sent him an email as soon as I got it. Leave him alone.” 

“ _Leave me alone”_ is also heavily implied there. 

“Dean,” his mom says carefully and he knows this is her “it’s time to talk about feelings whether either of us likes it or not” voice. 

“I have to get to work,” he says quickly, as he rises from his seat. 

“Dean, baby, you can’t just keep ignoring him.” 

“I gave him that stupid sonogram thing, didn’t I?” he snaps. “What else do you want me to do? Let him move in with me? Mate him?” 

“Oh lord, I didn’t say anything about mating him. Don't be so overdramatic,” she rolls her eyes. “I didn’t say anything about you two being together, _together_ , but he’s going to be part of that baby’s life. Why not make it easier on the two of you and just let him in once in a while?” 

“I don’t want to talk about this now.” 

“You never do,” she points out. “And I can’t make you do anything you don’t want to do-”

Dean’s hands clench as he thinks about the last of couple of weeks and how everyone says they can’t make him do anything, _that’s he’s the one in control_ , but they ignore him, ignore his wishes, ignore his requests. 

“Right,” Dean scoffs. “Like when you invited Cas to my doctor’s appointment?” 

“You could’ve told me no.” 

“What’s the point? You would’ve just ignored me, like you’ve been doing since you got here!” he yells. 

She looks at him surprised. 

“Dean,” she says quietly. 

“No,” Dean shakes his head. “No, I’m tired of this. First Sam, then Dad, then you. You’re all taking control away from me, because, what, I’m some sad helpless omega? None of this baby stuff has been on my terms. Sam told Cas and you. You and Dad show up and want me to have this entire thing figured out within minutes. You think I’ve been ignoring this?” 

He looks down at his rounded stomach. 

“That I don’t know how fucked up this situation is? Cas was nothing to me before this happened. He was just some alpha I worked with and now I have to spend the rest of my life dealing with him and that scares me, mom, that really scares me. Not ‘cause whole parenting thing, but the fact that I decided to be selfish and I’ve made a decision for him. So now I get to deal with this pregnancy, alone and unmated, but I also get to feel like shit every time I see Cas. And it doesn’t help that you keep inviting Cas to things like dinner or my doctor’s office! Fuck.” 

At this he breaks, and, god, does it feel good to break. There’s tears running down his face and his mom’s arms wrap around him. 

“Shhh, baby, it’s okay,” she mutters as she holds him close to her as he sobs into her shoulder. “It’s going be all okay.” 

He’s not sure he believes her, but there’s something in his mom’s voice that says he trusts her, that maybe she might be right. 

He pulls away and wipes his face. 

“God,” he says with a shaky laugh. “Thanks, Mom.” 

“I love you,” she tells him firmly. “No matter how you deal with this, I love you and so does your dad.” 

“I know.” 

She looks at him fondly for a moment, before shaking her head and stepping back.

“Get your ass to work now. Can’t have you slacking.” 

“Right,” he nods, but just before he turns to leave he feels a light movement inside him. 

_Could it be?_

He freezes.

“Dean?”

He feels another flutter and it’s _real_ , he’s not imagining this and he presses his hand to his belly. 

_There’s a baby in there,_ he thinks. _That’s my baby_. 

“Dean?” his mom repeats. 

“I think,” he says carefully, “I think the baby is moving.” 

As a response he feels another nudge. He laughs. “I think we woke them.”

And, god, if that doesn’t make everything feel better. 

 

Dean knocks nervously on Castiel’s door, trying to swallow the memory of that morning’s dream. 

It doesn’t help that Castiel answers with his usually distracted growl of “come in” and Dean steps into the office looking at a slightly disheveled alpha, sleeves rolled up, hair messy and papers spewed out all over the desk, which, you know, shouldn't be so hot. Dean's gonna blame the baby hormones on that.

Cas doesn’t look anywhere near ready to leave work and Dean feels like an idiot standing at his door with his coat in hand. 

“Is this a bad time?” 

The alpha looks up, his eyes wide with surprise. 

“No, no, of course not.” Cas jumps out of his seat. “Come on in and sit down.” 

“I’ll just be a second,” Dean protests, but already the alpha has pulled out a chair and looks eager for him to sit. “Seriously, it won’t take that long.”

Still, he can’t help the huff of relief as he sits down. He’s not even that big yet, but already his joints ache and his feet feel a hell of a lot better when he's off them. 

“Are you okay?” The alpha shifts nervously, sitting down across from him. 

“Yeah, just peachy.” He pats his belly and grins. "Just feels good to be off my feet with this thing in here." 

They sit there starting at each other before Cas clears his throat. 

“So, what can I do for you?” 

Right, he’s here for a reason and not just to look at Castiel. He eyes the desk nervously, as an image of him being pushed against it flashes briefly in his mind. 

“Dean…”

“Yeah, sorry.” Dean shakes his head. “This is kind of awkward to ask, but can I get a ride home from you?”

“Like tonight?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Um…” The alpha looks at him puzzled. “Of course.” 

“It’s just that my mom’s been my ride lately,” Dean explains before he can stop himself. “But, she’s, ah, busy getting ready to leave. She’s flying back tonight. And, um, with how tired I’ve been since, you know…” He pats his belly again and laughs. “This whole thing began, my doctor recommends that I lay off driving for a bit, so now I’m kinda stuck without a ride.” 

“You want me to drive you home?”

Dean tugs at his collar. “If that’s not too much trouble.” 

Cas blinks at him a couple of times like he’s trying to figure out what angle Dean’s coming at. Dean’s just about to heave himself up and tell the alpha to forget it when Cas replies. 

“Of course, of course I can,” he says carefully. “When do you want to leave?”

Dean looks at the pile of paper work that Cas is trying to finish before the end of the night and he wants to say in an hour or maybe two, but with that outburst this morning plus a full day of work, he just wants to go home and crash unto his couch until he needs to drive his mom to the airport. If he waits any longer, he’ll fall asleep in his office and he knows for a fact that there’s no comfortable positions to nap in there. 

Castiel clearly sees his hesitation, because he starts closing windows on his computer and quickly grabbing files. “Right now? I was planning on leaving soon anyways.”

They both know that’s a lie. 

“You sure?” 

“Positive,” Cas nods. “I’ll meet you at the elevator in… five minutes.” 

“Thanks,” Dean sighs. “I mean it.” 

Cas looks up at him, file in hand and a small smile on his face. “It’s really no problem.” 

-

Usually Castiel has a pretty good idea on how his day will go. Typically, he wakes up, goes for a run, eats breakfast and gets dressed before driving to work and sitting in an office building for an embarrassing amount of time before he heads home and passes out in front of reality TV for a couple of hours and then drags himself to bed. 

Today though, today is throwing him for a loop. 

First, there’s the email from Dean. Most emails he receives from the omega are business related, polite, short and entirely professional, and it takes him by surprise when he opens his email that morning to find one that reads “ _here are some glamour shots of our kid_ ” followed by several sonograms. 

He’s called out several times during a meeting because of this, but he doesn't seem to mind that, ‘cause the only thing going through his head is Dean’s message of “ _our kid_ ” and the black and grey photos he keeps glancing at on his phone. 

The second time this day throws him a curveball is when Dean himself shows up at Castiel’s office door just before five, asking him for a ride. He’s only half way through a pile of paper work that he wants to finish tonight and a quick glance at his computer tells him that it’s going to be another late one, a depressing fact considering he’s already stayed up well past midnight the night before. Dean showing up is almost like a straight up miracle and it’s the perfect excuse to leave at a decent time. 

Plus, this is the second time in a week that the omega has talked with him about something other than work and Castiel is counting that as a win. 

He tries to ignore the tug of his heart when he sees Dean waiting for him by the elevator, but Dean waves at him and offers a friendly smile and Castiel’s pretty sure there’s a goofy smile plastered on his face. 

“Thanks again,” Dean says as they enter the elevator. 

“It’s really no problem. I needed an excuse to leave early,” Castiel tells him honestly. 

“Planning another late one?” the omega laughs. 

“Aren’t all nights here a late one?” Castiel points out. “If anything you’re the one doing me a favour. I can actually go home early and get some sleep. I’m glad you asked. It was almost kind of you,” he teases. 

Dean smiles. “Or maybe I’m just making you go home early so you can’t top me in sales.” 

“I wouldn’t put it past you,” Castiel says warmly and he’s relieved when the omega laughs too. 

The walk to Castiel’s car is silent, only broken when Cas opens the door for Dean. 

“Oh, I almost forgot,”Dean says brightly, excitement dancing on his face. “I felt the baby move today.” 

“You’re joking,” Castiel blurts out, looking down at the omega’s belly. 

“I’m not,” the omega laughs at his reaction. “Honest to god, just as I leaving for work I felt this fluttering in my stomach. Must’ve woke them up.” 

“That’s amazing,” Castiel says with awe, because it is, and his hands itch to reach out and feel the life that's apparently moving inside Dean. 

Dean blushes, looking down at his belly, his hand now gently cradling it. “It is, isn’t it?”

“I wouldn’t be able to feel them yet?” Castiel ventures. What he remembers from the baby books and websites he's read is that there's still a couple more weeks before he'll feel anything at all.  He looks enviously at Dean’s belly. He can smell the child that’s nestling in there and he can see the way Dean’s shape has changed, but he feels so disconnected with this baby, despite what all his instinct is telling him.

“Not yet,” Dean shakes his head. 

The omega must see the disappointment on his face, because he gently touches Cas’s shoulder. “Hey, I’ll tell you as soon as you can,” Dean promises. 

“You mean that?”

“Of course, Cas.” Dean looks at him puzzled, like the omega hasn’t tried to leave him out of everything. 

“It’s just…” Castiel says carefully. He shakes his head. “Forgot it.”

“Alright.” 

And there’s an unspoken agreement between them to forget what happened in the last couple of weeks, or maybe even in the years previous. Whatever they are or are not, Dean seems to be trying to include Castiel and he’s eternally grateful for that small act of kindness. 

 

Castiel insists on walking Dean to the door. The omega had drifted off slightly on the short drive back and Castiel walks him up with gently grip on his arm, steadying Dean. 

The sight they arrive to is one neither of them expected. 

Dean’s apartment is a mess and the omega makes a muffled sound of distress when they enter into it. It also smells of frustrated alpha, though the cause of it becomes clear when they hear Dean’s mom yelling for him from another room. 

Ellen hurries into the main room. “About ti-” She stops in her tracks, quickly glancing from Dean to Cas before looking back at her son, her eyes narrowing. They seem to hold an entire conversation with just their eyes before the alpha huffs and turns to Castiel. 

“Castiel, it’s good to see you again,” she nods. 

“Likewise,” he replies though he remembers the tension filled drive home from the hospital clearly, as well as the equally disastrous dinner previous. 

The alpha grins at him. “This is perfect. I need someone to help me with my bags.” 

“Mom-” Dean protests. 

“There’s no way I’m letting my _pregnant_ son lift them. No matter what he says. Castiel, would you mind helping me,” she asks firmly so that Castiel knows there’s no way he can say no. 

“You don’t have to,” Dean tells him before turning to his mom. “He’s just dropping me off.” 

“And I’m sure he has time to help me,” she says brightly, giving him a pointed look. “Did you get the other sonograms?”

“Mom-” Dean hisses. 

“Yes, I did,” he says slowly looking at Dean. 

“Perfect!” Ellen shoots Dean another look, although this time it’s one of approval. “My bags are in the spare bedroom. I’ll show you.” 

He looks over to Dean for his permission, but the omega just rolls his eyes and nods.

It’s odd being in this part of Dean’s apartment. Granted, he’s only been in the apartment a handful of times, but there’s something more intimate about the backrooms, especially that of a bedroom. 

“Is this your luggage?” Castiel points as they enter the spare bedroom. 

“Leave it. I can carry my own,” Ellen says, closing the door behind her. “We need to talk.” 

Castiel nods, though he feels his throat closing up and he looks anxiously at the door. He’s half sure that Dean would go looking for him if he went missing. On the other hand, he half suspects that Dean’s planned this all along… which might explain why the omega’s been so nice to him today.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Ellen tells him, rolling her eyes, like that does anything to really comfort him. “I just want to give you some advice.” 

“Of course,” he replies, though he keeps his sight on the door and wonders if he can chance an escape. 

“You know Dean.”

“Not really,” Castiel admits. “We were only work colleagues-” _More like rivals._ “-before this entire… ordeal.” 

“Well good, then you know he can be stubborn. That he likes to push people away and he likes to think he can do everything by himself.” 

“That does sound like him,” Castiel agrees. 

“Well, another thing is that he likes to be a martyr for no reason.” 

Castiel can’t help the laugh that escapes him. 

“I’m well aware of that.” 

Ellen smiles at him. 

“Just be careful. I love the boy, but he’s slow about some things. He’ll get there eventually, but it takes goddamn forever. My advice to you is that you take your time and don’t let him push you away.” 

“Of course, thank you,” he tells her and he takes this as his chance to leave.

Ellen steps in front of him.

“Also,” Ellen points to him. “If you hurt him in anyway, I will kill you. I’m not joking. We’ve got land and we’re pretty close with the officials, so don’t think you’ll be missed.” 

“Uh…” Castiel glances quickly to the closed door. “Of course.” 

“You gotta promise me you’re not going to hurt him.” 

“I swear, I’ll try not to.” 

“Good, I’m glad to hear it” Ellen nods. She pats his arm. “And I lied, I do need you to carry my luggage.” 

Dean shoots him a worried look from the kitchen counter as Castiel comes out carrying Ellen’s luggage. She surveys the room before announcing she’s doing one final sweep, leaving them alone. 

“Do you want me to stay?” Castiel turns to Dean. 

“Nah, she can carry her bags no problem. Go home and get some sleep.” Dean fidgets with a glass of water in front of him. “You need it,” he smirks. 

Castiel frowns. “Thanks for that.” 

“I mean it,” the omega says playfully. “You look like total shit.” 

Castiel’s about to fight that remark when Ellen enters the room, announcing that she’s got everything. 

“Oh, except for this,” she says, slapping down a pile of pamphlets in front of them. 

Dean looks suspiciously at her as he begins to shift through them. “Uh… mom, what did you do?”

He holds up one that reads “Omega and Me” while Castiel eyes one entitled “Natural Childbirth for Omegas”.

“Signed you both up for a couple of classes. My treat.”

Dean shoots Castiel a panicked look. 

Ellen rolls her eyes. 

“You didn’t think I’d let my grandbaby come home to you two morons? You’ve never changed a diaper.” 

“I have!” Dean protests. 

“Once for Home-Ec, which you dropped if I remember correctly.” 

“It was omega propaganda! The only thing it taught me was that omegas are supposed to be good little homemakers and knotsluts for their alphas.”

“Dean,” Castiel says weakly, embarrassed that Dean would mention knots in front of his mother. The omega grins at him. 

“Christ, Dean,” Ellen rolls her eyes. She turns to Castiel. “You’ve never changed a diaper, have you?”

She’s got him there. He hasn’t even _held_ a baby before and that’s a pretty startling fact considering he’s going be a father pretty soon. 

“Thank you, Ellen,” he says quietly, though he can feel the panic rising up within him. He’s totally unprepared for this baby. Yes, he said he would be there for Dean and he’s eager to help with the baby, but there’s a huge difference between a sonogram or a bump in an omega’s belly and a real live tiny _person_. 

“I’m glad you’ve had the foresight to do this,” he tells her, ignoring the look of _traitor_ that Dean is giving him. Ellen beams at him. 

“See, it will be good for _both_ of you. And don’t be too overwhelmed, it’s just a basic childbirth and newborn care class. You’ll thank me later.”

“I’m sure we will.”

Castiel does not mishear the “ _suck up”_ muttered by Dean, but he definitely chooses to ignore it. 


	9. Chapter 9

Sam drops his sandwich onto his desk and sighs. 

“Dude, stop.” 

“What?” Dean grins at him, winking at Charlie. 

“You know.”

“Do I?” 

“The whole-” Sam gestures to Dean’s stomach. “Sticking your hand down your pants thing.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “One, I’m not sticking my hands down my pants. I’m just adjusting the band. Two, stop looking at my crotch.” 

“I’m not-” Sam decides to forget it and turns his attention back to his sandwich. He’s learned long ago not to argue with Dean, the omega has always been stubborn and being pregnant just makes him more so. As if to prove a point, Dean’s hand slips back into the elastic band of his pants and he shifts in his chair, all while in deep conversation with Charlie. 

Sam takes three bites of his sandwich before he can’t help himself. “Yeah,” he coughs. “Your hand is definitely down your pants.” 

The omega flips him off and Charlie shoots him a look of death for interrupting them. He should learn to keep his mouth shut. 

He also should’ve never invited Dean to tech support. 

It’s not that Sam doesn’t like Dean electively coming down to his department for lunch.  Actually, it’s all kinds of great. No longer is Sam getting weird looks by the higher ups for daring to enter their precious level and Dean’s way more relaxed when he’s not hanging out with a bunch of alphas, which an added bonus. Even before this whole pregnancy thing, Dean had mentioned how most the alphas treated him, well, _differently_. It wasn’t like aggressive propositioning and anything like sexual harassment, ‘cause Dean would’ve had them on their ass and out of the building in no time, but there were definitely small and pointed remarks said under the guise of “just kidding around” or “ that everyone gets ragged on, no need to be so sensitive” that Dean had to constantly brush aside.  It’s rare enough to have an omega on that level of management though, let alone a pregnant one, so when Dean unintentionally announced his pregnancy to the whole company, there were definitely some changes in how Dean’s co-workers acted towards him. Not that Dean ever said anything, but when Sam visited his floor, he often noticed how conversations halted when they passed by, as well as the slurs muttered under people’s breaths. 

Dean had ignored them, just as he ignored every other rumour said about him, but it had gotten worse the further along Dean got in pregnancy, so much so, that a few weeks back, Sam had turned around to find the omega standing in the cubicles with a lunch bag in hand and a half-mumbled excuse about staying down in the tech department for the hour. Sam hasn’t seen the inside of Dean’s office since. 

So yeah, Sam’s glad Dean’s down here with him. It just took him by surprise how comfortable Dean is hanging out with Sam’s work mates. At first the omega had kept a low profile, quietly talking with Sam or listening politely while Charlie and Ian ragged on each other, but, for whatever reason, Dean and Charlie had somehow hit it off and now Sam’s the one who gets to eat lunch silently while Dean and Charlie yell about battle formation or what not. (Scratch that, Sam knows exactly why the two hit it off and it’s because Dean Smith is secretly a huge nerd, a hunch confirmed when he said the Sword of Office Protection was _cool_ and not, say, embarrassing and/or a health code violation like a normal person would). 

No, that doesn’t bug Sam at all. It’s the fact that Dean’s so relaxed he doesn’t mind doing things like _putting his hands down his pants in public._

Sam coughs loudly. 

“Dude, you try wearing these pants,” Dean snaps. “They’re fucking itchy.” 

To prove his point, Dean lifts up his shirt and pulls at the band, giving Charlie and Sam a good view of his bulging (and admittedly red) stomach. 

Yup, there’s no doubt now Dean’s pregnant and from what Sam’s seen, he’s definitely given up on trying to hide it. Not that he could, as none of his clothing can hide his shape and even if he wanted to, his hands are almost always on his stomach, helpfully framing the baby bump. It’s nice to see how proud Dean is of the baby and his changing body, especially after such a shaky start.

Dean shoots Sam a dirty look before quickly tugging his shirt down. 

“Stop giving me those big goo-goo eyes,” he mutters, winking at Charlie, who laughs loudly. The two of them are going to be the death of Sam. 

“Wow, you’re really packing there,” Ian observes. “How long before the big parade?” 

“17 weeks,” the omega says tightly. Unlike Charlie, Dean hasn’t really hit it off with Ian, whose laid-back (and usually against Sandover’s policies) ways have a habit of getting on the omega’s nerves. If Dean wasn’t already in a precarious situation with his boss, Sam’s sure Ian would’ve been let go a long time ago. 

“17 weeks?” Sam looks up. “Seriously? That’s kind of soon.” 

“More than half way,” Dean nods. 

“Have you told Zachariah yet?” 

The tight-lip look Dean gives him means that the answer is clearly no. 

“Dude.”

“I know, I know… it just doesn’t seem like the right time.” 

“It’s not like he doesn’t know, he’s not blind,” Sam points out. “You need to set up mat leave soon.” 

“Christ, who are you? My mother?” 

Sam chooses to ignore that comment. 

“Has he said anything to you?” 

“No.” The omega shifts in his seat. “I haven’t really talked to him since, you know, the whole… thing got out.” 

“Are you kidding me?”

Everyone knows that Dean has always been Zachariah’s pet project. Zachariah always played favourites, especially with the rare omegas who make to Dean’s level. Always giving them the raises first, always looking at them in the meeting, praising them for the simplest of work. Always hoping that he could mate or, at least, fuck one of them. 

“You’d think having a pregnant omega to coddle would be right up his ally,” Charlie scoffs. “Nothing personal, Dean.” 

“He’s probably pissed that you’re not some pure little omega like he wanted,” Sam laughs. 

“Yeah,” Dean agrees, though he looks at his hands, not making eye contact with anyone.

“Don’t worry,” Charlie says quickly. “I’m sure it will be fine. Just do it now before he feels like bringing down the wrath of Zeus on you.” 

“Yeah,” Dean says quietly. “I will.” 

-

Dean pauses at Zachariah’s door. 

There’s a twisting in his stomach and this desire just to turn tail and run, and he just doesn’t want to fight it. 

It’s not like he thinks his boss will react badly. Zachariah is many things- smarmy, arrogant, and self-involved, but it’s not like he would actively punish Dean for being pregnant. _Would he?_

But Sam telling him that Zachariah’s been ignoring him ‘cause he isn’t some pure omega keeps running through his head and he thinks back to how Zachariah treated him before this whole thing began, how Zachariah was always touching him and praising him and now it’s total radio silence from his boss. 

Yeah, that doesn’t bode well. 

He knocks anyways, ‘cause Sam’s right, it’s not like he’s exactly hiding the fact he’s pregnant and he’s gotta sort out mat leave, like before he _gives birth_. 

“Dean!” Zachariah greets him, and maybe Dean’s paranoid, but it doesn’t sound as friendly as usual. 

“Zachariah,” Dean says meekly. 

“I heard you wanted to speak to me about something. Have a seat,” Zachariah leans back in his chair, smiling. It’s not a friendly smile though, more like a shark looking at his next prey kinda smile. 

Dean tries to sit without groaning or being visibly awkward, but there’s a lot of _baby_ in his way and he finds himself huffing as he plops himself down. 

There’s no mistaking the look of disgust on Zachariah’s face. 

Dean’s face burns and he tries not to look directly at his boss. 

“So…” Zachariah says carefully. “What brings you in?” 

“Sir,” Dean starts, before stopping. The morning sickness has been gone for a couple of weeks now, but he can feel the bile rising in his throat and he wonders if he’s going to puke on his boss’s desk.

That’s one way to announce he’s pregnant.

Swallowing hard, he takes a deep breath. 

“There’s a matter I’ve been meaning to telling you…” He looks to Zachariah, waiting for a nod, but the beta stares him, waiting. “I’m pregnant.” 

Nothing changes in Zachariah’s expression, no surprise, no anger, he just looks at Dean expectingly, though Dean can see a gleam in his eyes that just borders on sadistic. The bastard is totally getting off on how awkward and awful Dean is feeling. 

“You know Sandover doesn’t cover maternity leaves,” Zachariah finally says.“We can only give the subscribed 12 weeks off. Unpaid, of course. And you can use whatever vacation time and sick leaves you have left.” 

“Uh…” 

“And we’ll need to know when your due date is so that we can hire your replacement. That really puts some strain on the company, Dean.” 

“Yeah, of course. Sorry,” Dean apologizes, though he wants to kick himself for saying that. 

“And you are aware that it’s also in Sandover’s policy that maternity or paternity leave only covers _one_ parent.”

“Uh…”

No he wasn’t aware of that, nor has he really thought of it. He knows Cas wants to be there when the baby is born and he kind of assumed afterwards (though there’s a part of him that thinks that Cas is only saying this because he has to, not because he means it or is really going through with it). Either, he’s got to split his leave with Cas or hope the alpha hasn’t taken any vacations or sick days in the last year and won’t mind going back to work so soon. Both these solutions suck. 

“I’ll have HR draw up some papers for you to sign, and we’ll have this thing dealt with,” Zachariah continues on, snapping Dean out of his head. 

“Of course.” 

Zachariah pauses, a half smile on his face like he’s heard a good joke and Dean’s not getting it. 

“Congratulations, I believe, are in order,” Zachariah says, but there’s nothing happy or congratulatory in his voice. In fact, the way he’s looking at Dean is kind of wolfish, and Dean’s Little Red Riding Hood lost in the woods. 

“Uh, thanks,” Dean say dumbly. 

“It’s a shame,” Zachariah says quietly. He looks at Dean, that small smug smile hanging on his face like some twisted kind of mask. “You were one of my best, Dean. You had such… _potential_.” 

Dean’s stomach sinks and he fights back another wave of nausea. 

“I’m sorry. What?” He sputters, but Zachariah ignores him. 

“Here at Sandover. You would’ve gotten so far. Hell, you might have even had my job one day, if you played your cards right. They told me hiring omegas is a waste of resources, a waste of time. Not only do you distract all the alphas, you’re always getting pregnant, always opening your legs for any alpha that will have you. But I thought you’d be different, Dean.”

Zachariah sits on the edge of desk, right in front of Dean, and leans forward. 

“You were so cold and frigid for your co-workers. Didn’t let their name calling, their bets that they could bed you, stop you from rising up here. You were so eager to please. Always ready for praise, like the good little soldier you are. And you threw it all away for that.” Zachariah eyes Dean’s belly, his voice dripping with distaste. “Some bastard babe that no alpha will claim and that you’ll have to raise, unmated and alone. Disgusting.” 

Dean rises from his chair, his fists clenched and his entire being shaking. He can’t punch his boss, no matter how much he wants to, no matter how much instinct is telling him to. 

“Is that all?” he says quietly, though his face burns with how complacent he’s being, how _omega_ he’s acting. 

“That’s it,” Zachariah dismisses him. “HR will send you the papers by Monday.” 

 

The walk back is swallowed by an oncoming darkness and the world blurs around Dean as he makes to the safety of his office. 

He’s so furious, so mad at Zachariah, at the world, and at himself that he doesn’t notice right away that’s he’s not the only one in there. 

“Dean, are you okay?” Castiel asks. He stands in the corner, his coat thrown over his arm and with a paper bag that leaking grease in his hand. 

Dean jumps. 

“What are you doing here?” he snaps, ‘cause he pissed and he’s angry and Cas is right in front of him. He doesn’t want the alpha hovering around him, doesn’t want the alpha anywhere near him. 

“I brought you a burrito, I know you’ve been craving them lately.” 

At this, Dean collapses into his chair and he leans against the desk, head in hands, letting himself shake and sob. 

“Dean,” Cas says quietly and he pulls the omega out his chair and unto the floor, holding him tightly. “Dean, are you okay?” 

They stay like for what feels like hours, before Dean moves his head away from Castiel’s chest. He can see a wet spot on Castiel’s shirt and he touches it gently. 

“It was Zachariah,” he murmurs. “I went to ask him about maternity leave.” 

He can feel Castiel bristle at the mention of their boss. 

“It went badly, I suppose.” 

“That’s one word for it,” Dean snorts. “Another would be, an absolute fucking disaster.” 

“He can’t deny you mat leave. It's illegal, ” Castiel replies fiercely and Dean’s heart jumps at how quick the alpha defends him. 

“No, I totally got that, but he just said some… shit.” 

“Like what?”

“It’s nothing,” Dean rubs at his eyes and pulls himself away from Castiel’s embrace. “It’s stupid.” 

“Tell me,” Castiel says, his voice going all alpha and controlling. 

“Mentioned how he took a chance on me, even though everyone thinks omegas are only cock warmers and breeders and he was disappointed that I’m just as _slutty_ as the rest of them. Pretty much said that my career was finished.”

He hears the low furious growl before he sees Cas jumping up, his eyes narrowed, looking ready for battle. 

“He can’t-” the alpha bites out. “He can’t say that to you. Can’t treat you like that.” 

“What should I do? _Punch him_?”

“Go to HR.”

Dean scoffs at this. “We both know HR is a joke. They’ll be happy when I’m gone and can’t get all those alphas riled up. I’m a _distraction_ , you know.”

Castiel freezes, his face now brightly red. He looks away from Dean.

“Jesus, Cas.” 

“Do you want me to do something about this?” Castiel asks carefully. “If you want me to, I will.” 

“No,” Dean says quickly, ‘cause he doesn’t want to get fired, doesn’t want Cas getting fired either. 

“Dean-”

“Cas,” he says firmly. “There’s nothing you can do.” 

Dean wipes his eyes again and reaches out a hand. “Now give me that burrito.” 

-

Castiel tells Dean he’s not going to do anything and that’s a lie. He knows it’s a lie when he says it to Dean and he knows it’s a lie when he leaves Dean’s office, after they both engulf their respective meals. He doesn’t even pretend that he’s going to let it go, because the first thing he does is head straight for Zachariah’s office. 

The beta’s on the phone when Castiel enters, and he holds up a finger. 

“Sorry, have to go,” Zachariah says smugly. “I have something I need to deal with.”

“Castiel,” he greets brightly. “Now, what brings you in here?”

“I think you know,” he says lowly, but the beta doesn’t even flinch. 

“Ah yes, I should’ve guessed it would be you. Should’ve known that little omega would go running to his big bad alpha.” 

“Dean says-”

“Dean says this, Dean says that,” Zachariah scoffs.“Always believing what that little slut says will get you in trouble.” The beta laughs. “How do you know if the bastard he’s carrying is even yours? Could be any of the alphas in here. I know you two have an… interesting relationship. A rivalry, I hear. Imagine how much he could screw with you if he told you it was yours just so you could throw your career, _your life_ , away on some omega. All he has to do is convince you it’s yours and tell you that I’ve treated him badly.” 

Castiel steps forward and Zachariah steps back. 

“Go ahead and punch me, I’ve been waiting for a reason to get rid of you.” 

Castiel lets his fist unclench and he moves back.

“It’s mine,” he says carefully. “It’s mine and that fact is eating you up inside. You’re jealous. Jealous that all that work, all that praise, and Dean still won’t sleep with you. It kills you knowing that for all that _effort_ you put in, all he really wants is some alpha’s knot, something you can never really offer him.” 

It feels like the air has been sucked out of the room when Cas says this. He expects the beta to yell at him, to try and attack him. He’s not prepared for the quiet knowing smile he sees.

“Fuck him,” Zachariah says under his breath. He turns to Castiel. “He’s just some omega. You know how easy it will be to get another in here? We all know what they’re good for. They’re just holes to fill and breed.” 

“I could go to HR about this.”

“Go ahead,” Zachariah laughs. “Dean will be gone in a few months anyways. They always say it’s just temporary, but they get knocked up as soon as they can and we know they’re happier at home having babies.” 

“It doesn’t matter, Castiel,” Zachariah continues. “Even if he wants to come back, he’s can’t. I can just say he failed to perform his duties and that he’s been unprofessional. Should’ve never thrown up in meeting. It’s done. There’s nothing you can do about it. So, I’d be careful what you do or say if you like where you are. Little ones cost plenty and both of you can’t be out a job. Are we clear?”

Castiel steps back. “We are,” he says quietly. 

“Good.”

 

“Christ, where have you been?” Dean asks, looking up from his phone. Whatever signs of distress Dean was feeling looks to be gone, though his eyes still look a little red and he smiles at Castiel meekly, like he’s afraid of something. 

Castiel doesn’t have the heart to lie. 

“I confronted Zachariah.” 

“Oh, I’m sure that went well.” 

“I didn’t,” Castiel admits. “In someway, I might have potentially gotten you fired.” 

The fury that Castiel was feeling is nothing compared to what is coming off of the omega. Before he can even open his mouth to apologize, Dean is in front of him, his face red and his mouth tight.

“Fuck,” he yells. “What did you do?” 

“I went to get an apology-”

“From our boss, Castiel? Really? He’s a dick! It’s not like he was going to see the error of his ways and fall on his knees and beg for our forgiveness!” 

“It wasn’t right-”

“No, what isn’t right is your constant need to interfere with my life! I told you to leave it alone. I know what I’m doing!”

“Do you? Do you really think you have any control over this situation? That if you _kissed_ Zachariah’s ass enough that he would let you back?” 

He doesn’t even let Dean tell him to get out. He leaves on his own. 

 

He slams door behind him and looks for something he can throw. There’s really nothing in his office, though he’s tempted to send everything on his desk crashing down. Even in his anger, in his blind rage at Dean, he knows computers are not easily fixed and there’s data and files that will take weeks to find and figure out if he acts out. So he stands in front of his desk mentally trying to will it asunder. 

“Hey, I’m not done with you.” A door slams behind him and his office fills with the scent of angry omega. 

“God, when will you ever be?” he sighs, because he’s tired and he’s done and he just wants to hide away and pretend this day never happened. 

“When you smarten up,” Dean snaps behind him. 

“You’re infuriating,” Castiel counters, because he’s childish and Dean is, in fact, infuriating. 

“Fuck you.” 

Neither of them are sure who said that, but they’re both panting and out of breath and he hears an intake of breath from behind him and a quiet “fuck it” before he feels himself being pushed onto his desk. 

“ _I’m infuriating_ ,” Dean says above him. “Christ, do you even know what a pain in the ass you are.” 

“I thought you liked that,” Castiel says before he can stop himself. Sometimes, he’ll admit, he is a child. 

He can’t see it, but he hears the sound of paper crashing to the floor before he feels Dean straddle his legs. Castiel reaches out to steady him. 

“Fuck,” Dean mutters again as he reaches down, quickly undoing Castiel’s belt. “Lift up your hips.” 

“Take off your clothes,” Castiel responds, ‘cause he wants to see Dean naked, wants to see him fully. 

Dean thinks for a minute, like he’s not grinding up against Castiel, before he nods and slides off the desk, surprisingly lithe for someone whose six months pregnant. 

It doesn’t take long before he feels Dean tugging at his pants, pulling them down to his knees. Dean straddles him again, slick and ready. 

The omega teases him at first, slowly rubbing his ass against Castiel’s cock. Castiel reaches out to steady Dean again, but he feels his hands being pushed against the desk. 

“No,” Dean says sternly, pushing harder down and rubbing slow and deliberately. “I say when.” 

“Of course,” Castiel murmurs, though he’s not really sure he’s said anything or if he’s just babbled it. There’s a pleased hum above him and he wonders if he’ll ever feel the inside of Dean again. 

He doesn’t have to wait long for that answer. 

Dean takes him easily and eagerly, at first slowly sliding himself onto Castiel’s cock. He can feel Dean clench around him, his hole warm, slick-filled, and welcoming. 

“Fuck,” Dean hisses before he begins to move, again working himself up and down Castiel’s dick. “Oh God, that feels good.”

Dean grips at his arms and Castiel wants to reach up and bring them closer together. He blindly reaches out for hold Dean’s thighs, but his hands are stopped by the firmness of Dean’s stomach and his thumb traces the curve gently, before he opens his eyes and he looks up at Dean. 

With his hand on Dean’s belly and the omega above him, moaning, head tilted back and eyes closed and lost in pleasure, Castiel almost comes there. It’s a sight that nearly blinds him. He presses his hand harder against Dean’s belly, and uses another hand to reach out and pull Dean closer. 

“Fuck, Cas,” the omega yells. Though this doesn’t stop the rhythm of Dean’s thighs against his, doesn’t stop the feeling of tightness, doesn’t stop him from coming. 

He reaches for the omega’s cock, all pressed against Dean’s swollen belly, leaking and red, stroking it quickly and firmly. Above him, Dean inhales sharply and that is all the warning Castiel gets before he feels the omega spills onto him. 

Dean breathes heavy above him and Castiel can feel the hum of the omega’s body above him before Dean lifts himself off and collapses next to Castiel, his body turned facing him in the little space there is left on the desk. 

Dean wraps his legs around Castiel and lies his head against the alpha’s shoulder, his breath slowly steadying. Castiel’s hand automatically finds itself on Dean’s belly and he again traces the curves, amazed and wondrous at Dean’s changing shape. 

“It this okay?” he asks quietly. 

Dean hums his approval. “Yeah, of course,” the omega says, though he sounds like he’s drifting off. 

“I did this,” Castiel presses his hand against the swell. _And this,_ he thinks _, is why Dean will never come back to Sandover_. 

“Hmm..” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Apology accepted,” Dean mutters, eyes half closed. 

Castiel wants to kiss Dean. Looking down at the sleepy omega, he feels a swell of affection so strong, he nearly chokes. Dean looks just on the edge of sleep until his eyes pop open.

“Oh!” 

Dean’s hand moves to his belly. He pauses for a moment before he takes Castiel’s hand. 

“Can you feel that?” he asks gently. 

Castiel almost says no, but as soon as he opens his mouth he feels a light kick against his hand. 

“That’s…”

“Yeah,” Dean smiles. “Amazing, huh?” 

Castiel nods. There are too many words to describe what Castiel is feeling to reduce it down to just amazing. Miraculous, maybe? Wondrous? _That’s his baby_.

He presses harder, hope to feel another kick, but the baby doesn’t seem to care about his desires as the fluttering stops. He looks up at Dean, only to find that the omega has drifted off. 

He gently shakes Dean awake. 

“We can’t sleep here.” 

“Why not?” Dean argues weakly, his eyes still closed. 

“Cleaning staff, co-workers, management. We don’t need them to see us like this.” 

“I think they heard us anyways,” Dean chuckles.

Castiel wipes them off with his tie before getting off the desk, quickly pulling on his pants. 

“Regardless, I’d prefer if no one saw us.”

“Right,” Dean looks at him doubtfully. He reaches for his pants. “I should go.” 

“Move in with me,” Cas blurts out. Dean freezes, pants in hand. 

“What?”

“Or I can move in with you. Whatever is best. I would like to be part of the baby’s life and this would work best for us.”

“Dude, have you lost your mind? We can barely stand each other in the eight hours we work here. You want to take this crap home with you?”

“I mean… I thought….” Castiel glances at the desk. 

Dean rolls his eyes. 

“Come on, you don’t really want this.” Castiel wants to protest, but he can smell fear in the omega and a wariness. 

Dean looks hesitantly at Castiel. “I appreciate your offer, I really do, but no, there’s no way that would work.” 

“Right.”

“Right,” Dean repeats. “Uh… I think I’ll get a ride from Sam tonight if you don’t mind.”

Castiel minds, god does he mind, but instead he nods. “Of course, that makes sense. Good night, Dean.” 

The omega smiles quickly at him. “Night, Cas.” 

 


	10. Chapter 10

 

“You slept with Cas?” Charlie yells out. Half the patrons of the coffee shop turn to stare at them. 

“Jesus, keep it down,” Dean hisses, slapping a hand over her mouth. 

Charlie shakes him off. “Yeah, well, don’t just spring that news onto me. This is good news.”

Dean frowns. 

“This is bad news?” she ventures. 

“I don’t know,” Dean sighs. “It happened, alright?”

“What happened?” Sam sits down across from him, passing around their collective orders. 

“I slept with Cas,” he tells him before Charlie can. 

Sam looks down at him, eying Dean's swollen belly. “Uh, I got that.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “I mean right now… not like right now, right now, but like maybe half an hour ago?” He looks at his watch. “Yup, definitely half an hour ago.” 

It’s totally worth saying it out loud for the look on Sam’s face. 

“Dude, why?” 

Charlie high-fives him. “Good job, Dean.” 

“Charlie, really?” Sam pleads. 

“What?” Charlie shrugs. “He’s dreamy. If I batted for that team-”

“Stop,” Sam says firmly. He turns to face Dean. “What do you mean you slept with Cas like thirty minutes ago?”

“Not sure what’s so unclear, Sammy. Cas and I,” Dean lowers his voice, “did stuff in his office.” 

“Dean!” 

“What? You asked!” 

It’s not like Dean meant to tell Sam. Not like he ran out of Cas’s office with the intention of spilling the slick-covered beans to his friends. In fact, he only meant to ask Sam for a ride home and just do that thing he does where he refuses to talk about what happened so that Sam can’t him ask him stupid questions and be all concerned and shit. He meant to do that. 

When he entered the damn elevator, pressing buttons frantically as he tried to keep the panicked thought of “ _I just slept with Cas… again_ ” going round and around his head, that was still his full intention. Sure it was one thing to have dirty dream about Cas or say jerk off to thought the alpha in the shower, he rationalized, but it was definitely another thing to fuck him on his desk like they’re in some cheap Pay Per View or something. Yeah, definitely a line that didn’t need to be crossed. Not because he didn’t like, ‘cause he did, fuck he really did… the way Cas felt beneath him, _in him_ , the look of the alpha helpless below him… he hadn’t felt that way since… well since Miami. 

Dean could have left that room with just that, it could’ve been all good, but then Cas had to do something stupid and open his mouth. 

_Move in with me_. 

Like that would make everything better… like that could really work? Like Cas actually wanted them to be something…

And before Dean knows it, the elevator doors are opened and he’s at Sam’s cubicle asking Charlie and him for coffee, under the illusion that he’s not going to say anything. Then he has to open _his_ stupid mouth while Sam’s busy getting their drink orders and just blurt out to Charlie “I slept with Cas” like he wants to talk about it… or something. 

Before Sam can protest, Dean takes his drink and gets up. “I need a ride home from you,” he says quickly, his eyes already locked on the door. “Probably until this kid is born… maybe even after. He asked me to move in with him.” 

“Oh no,” Charlie jumps up, pulling him back to his seat. “You’re not getting out of this. I’ll get it from you or I can get it from Castiel. Your choice.” 

“I…” Dean looks helplessly at Sam. The bastard just shrugs. 

“Let’s hear it,” Sam smiles and Dean’s kind of glad he puked on his shoes a couple of times. 

“And I want all the details,” she winks at Dean. 

“Oh god,” he mutters, but that doesn’t stop him from spilling everything. About the meeting, about what Zachariah said, what _Castiel said_. 

“What a sleaze-bag,” Charlie says. “He can’t fire you for being _pregnant_. There’s laws against that.” 

“Yeah, but he can fire me for not fulfilling my work duties or being unprofessional,” Dean points out. 

“Dean’s right,” Sam nods. “If he wants Dean gone, he’ll find a way.” 

“Even if I do come back, I’ll probably be demoted,” Dean says mournfully. Years of his career gone all because he had a baby. He’ll probably have to work under some alpha… great. 

“Come work in the tech department,” Charlie suggests. “They’ve never bothered me.” 

“Yeah, and you haven’t gotten a promotion in like three years,” Sam reminds her. 

“Neither have you,” she laughs. She looks down at her almost empty coffee cup. “They barely remember we work here… not a bad thing,” she adds with a grin. 

Right now, Dean would give anything to be down in tech, away from Zachariah, away from all those alphas… away from Cas. 

“So I take it you’re not gonna take Cas up on his offer?” Sam asks, snapping him back to reality. 

“What do you think?” Dean mocks. “No. Who even asks that? We’re not friends, we’re not dating. Plus, who springs that on someone right after sex?” 

“He’s just being an alpha,” Charlie points out, taking one last slug of her coffee. “He’s trying to protect you, carrier of his unborn child. It’s what alphas do when their mates are pregnant. He’s in alpha papa mode.” 

“He’s not my alpha,” Dean huffs. “Or my mate. I don’t need him protecting me.” 

Charlie and Sam exchange a look. 

“What?” 

Sam gives him those _I feel so sorry for you_ puppy eyes that Dean hates, so Dean pulls himself up (and away from Charlie’s grip this time) and announces he wants to leave. 

-

The ride back is quiet. This is mostly because Dean is giving him the silent treatment. Dean sits beside Sam, his teeth grinding down to show just how determined he is to _not_ talk with Sam or Charlie, and a pained look on his face, like it hurt him to share so much today- and, knowing Dean, it probably did. 

Charlie sits in the back, aimless chattering, but one glance from Dean ends it and Sam tries not to thank the powers to be when they finally arrive at Dean’s place. 

Before the car engine is off, Dean already has his seatbelt off and the look like he’s going to run for it, which would be impressive for a six month pregnant omega to do, but Sam doesn’t let him. Instead, he announces he’s going to walk the omega to his door and before Dean can protest, Charlie mentions that she’s never seen the inside of his apartment, which means Dean has to let them both in. 

“Don’t touch anything,” he says gruffly while they wait outside his door. The omega freezes though when he puts his key in. 

“Someone’s in there,” he whispers, pulling the key out. “The door is unlocked.” 

Sam presses an ear against the door, and sure enough he can hear the sound of muffled movement from within. 

“Should I get the sword?” Charlie asks seriously. 

“Are you kidding me?”

“No!” Sam shakes his head, before pulling himself up to his full height. He turns to Dean. ‘Do you want me to go in?”

“And what? Step on them?” Dean rolls his eyes. “You have the bones of an eighty year old woman, they could break your arm before you even give them the puppy eyes. No, I’ll go in.” 

For that remark, Sam lets Dean gingerly open the door. 

The room is a mess. Pillows are thrown everywhere, food is lying out, liquid is growing sticky on the counter. Sam can practically feel Dean having a heart attack next to him. 

“Dean?” a women’s voice calls out and out pops a young blonde alpha. 

“Dean!” she repeats, running towards them. She pulls Dean into a hug.

“Jo!” Dean smiles. “What the hell?”

“What the hell yourself. You put on some weight,” she says stepping back to assess Dean’s bulging stomach. She quickly pats it. “That explains why there’s no food in here.” 

“Uh…” Panic lights up Dean’s eyes. 

“Mom and Dad told me, you idiot,” this girl, _Jo_ , laughs. “I guess congrats are in order?” She turns to Sam, looking him up and down disapprovingly. 

“Is this the alpha?” she asks, like she might just beat him up then and there. 

“What? No!” Dean moves away from Sam. “God, no.” 

“Hey!

“He’s just a friend… and a beta.” 

“Thanks, Dean,” Sam mumbles, taking Jo’s outstretched hand. “Sam Wesson. I work with Dean.” 

“More like beneath me,” Dean smirks. “And this is Charlie… also beneath me.” 

“Only at work,” Charlie grins. “Charlie Bradbury, tech expert, princess rescuer, sword owner.” 

The girl raises an eyebrow, but looks dutifully impressed. “That’s quite the title.” 

“And you are?” Sam looks at Dean, who just rolls his eyes. 

“Jo Smith, younger sibling to this dumb-ass,” she says, pointing to Dean. 

“Dean, that’s your sister!” Charlie gasps. “Wow-” Sam quickly steps on her foot. “What?” She frowns at him. “She’s just nothing like I pictured her.” 

“I hope that’s a compliment,” Jo laughs. 

Dean swings an arm over her, pulling her into a half embrace. “Yeah, that’s her,” he grins. “Pain in my ass, apple of my mother’s eye.” 

“Right,” Jo scoffs. “Like you didn’t have her wrapped around your finger from day one. Just add future grandkid and you’re set for life.” She looks pointedly down. “Oh look, you already did.” 

“Okay, you don’t need to be such a smart ass.” Dean pulls away. “What are you doing here?” 

“Just wanted to see my big brother. No crime in that,” Jo says, moving towards the kitchen island. 

Dean narrows his eyes. “Knowing you, there’s definitely a crime in that. If this involves Ash, I swear-”

“Keep your pants on.” Jo looks down at the counter, frowning. “I’m just quitting school, that’s all.” 

“You’re quitting school?” Dean sputters. “You? The one who’d begged to leave Mom and Dad’s place since puberty? You’re leaving?” 

“I left. Like a week ago.” 

Dean looks like he’s about to have a stroke. 

“Dean,” Sam says carefully. “She probably had a good reason…” 

Dean ignores him. 

“So you’ve been what? Backpacking across America? Sleeping on people’s couches?” 

“Yeah.” 

Dean looks like he’s going to burst. He takes a deep breath though. 

“Jo, you know-”

“-Don’t you dare lecture me!” Jo snaps. “You got yourself pregnant and you didn’t even tell me! I’m your sister!” 

“This whole situation… it’s kind of fucked up,” Dean starts to explain. 

Jo shakes her head. 

“You could’ve told me. Could’ve _called me_. Instead, I hear it from Mom after she gushes all about you and her future grandkid. Figured if she can be so chill about you getting knocked up, she’ll have no problem with me dropping out of school.” 

“Believe me, there was nothing _chill_ about her reaction. Jo, she flew across the country to yell at me.” 

Jo traces a pattern in the counter with her index finger, her breath shaky and her face tired.

“Can I stay with you?” she mumbles, not looking up. 

“No, absolutely not.”

“Why not? You’re going to need some help when the baby comes, I need to hide from Mom and Dad for a bit.”

“They’ll find out and then they’ll kill both of us. I can’t let Cas raise this baby alone, Jo. He’s never seen _Road House.”_

Jo rolls her eyes. “Dean, please.” 

“Not until you tell me why you left.” 

The look Jo shoots Sam and Charlie could freeze hell and heaven over, twice. Sam coughs and moves towards the door. “Look, we should go.” 

“Why’d you leave?” Dean repeats, ignoring him. 

“Dean, just let them-”

“Why’d you leave?” 

“Because it sucked!” Jo yells, her voice cracking. “‘Cause I was just a freak there.” 

“Dean, we should go,” Charlie says firmly. 

Dean looks at both of them like he just fully realized whose in the apartment. 

“Fine,” he says helpless. “Go.” 

Sam can hear the implication, the word “abandonment slipping from Dean’s lips after “go”, but when Sam looks at Jo, he can see a pain that should not be expressed publicly and a hurt only siblings should know and share. He nods to Charlie and slips out, hoping that Dean will understand- or at least forgive him. 

-

Okay, it’s not like Dean’s purposely ignoring Cas and the whole “we fucked on a desk and now you want me to move in with you thing”, because he’s not. He’s just really busy. He’s dealing with a sister who decided to drop out of school and stay with him (although it’s not entirely her decision, admittedly Dean was the one who kept yelling about how disgusting couches can be and that no decent person should be couch-surfing). Plus, he’s also growing a human being inside him, so that makes him forgetful sometimes. Mostly though, he’s just really consumed with trying to find a balance between no directly lying to his mother and keeping himself sane. 

There’s a reason why Jo moved across the country for school and that’s because she’s impossible to live with. Some might say the same about him, but the last person that Dean lived with was Benny, and it’s not like Dean’s taking his opinion on that (or any) matter.

Maybe he’s just a neat freak (like Jo keeps insisting) or maybe’s Jo actually a wild animal disguised a tiny blonde girl (a stance Dean firmly believes), but almost every conversation (a polite word for it) they’ve had since Jo moved in has been about how it’s damn near impossible for Jo to pick up after herself. 

“This is because you’re an omega,” she counters, after Dean insisted she washed her dirty dishes that have been sitting in sink for two days. “Mom said she used to give you a feather duster and let you go ‘nuts’ when you were little. She said it tired you out and kept you out of her hair.” 

“Plus,” Jo adds later, when Dean’s trying to watch _Doctor Sexy_ in peace. “You have all those baby hormones making you nest and shit.” 

He’s going to kick her out. He swears he is. 

The only nice thing about Jo living with him is that he’s too busy either fighting with her or cleaning up after her to notice how much time passes. It’s only the change of his shape, the way his feet have firmly disappeared beneath his burgeoning belly, that tells him anything. 

It still takes him by surprise about how far along he is when Cas knocks on his door. 

“Dean,” Cas peaks his head through the doorway. “Do you have time to talk?”

“Cas,” he stumbles, quickly removing the take-out box that’s precariously balancing on his stomach. “Come on in.” 

He pretends he doesn’t see the flash of amusement that passes on the alpha’s face. 

“My calendar has just alerted me to the fact we have an event soon,” Cas tells him as he sits across from Dean. 

“We do?” Dean asks, his attention more on the plate of noodles lying on his desk. “It’s not like due date?” He asks confused. “‘Cause we still have two months to go on that.” 

“No, Dean,” Cas laughs. “We have a birthing class to attend to.” 

“Shit, already?” Dean grabs his phone. “No way.” There it is, two nights from now. 

“I completely forgot about that,” Dean quickly explains. “Been kind of busy…” 

A look of relief passes quickly on the alpha’s face. “Good,” he mutters. “I’d just assumed that after we had sex on my desk, you were purposely ignoring me.” 

Yeah, that sounds like him. 

“By that extension, I’d also assumed you didn’t want me at the class.” 

“God no,” Dean says quickly. “Some stuff sort of happened. I was definitely counting on you being there. Kind of depended on-” Dean pauses, glancing down at his belly. “I would really like that.” 

Cas almost glows when he hears that. 

“I look forward to it,” the alpha smiles. “I’ll see you then.” 

Cas pauses at the door though and looks back at Dean.

“I should apologize for asking you to move in with me. I should have never sprung that on you after-”

“-It’s okay,” Dean says briskly, his face begins to burn at the memory. “You were just doing what you thought was best. I understand you just want to protect this little guy.” He rubs the baby bump, smiling as he feels the press of a foot beneath his hand. 

Castiel frowns. “It wasn’t just that…” He shakes his head. “Of course. I was just being an alpha, just wanted to see the two of you safe.” His eyes move over Dean’s belly, a yearning so clear upon it. “How are you doing, Dean?” 

Dean laughs. “Besides the need to pee all the time, the heartburn, the swollen feet? Just peachy.” 

Castiel doesn’t smile at though, his focus still on Dean’s stomach.

“Here,” he huffs, turning towards Castiel. “Have a feel.” 

“Are you sure?” Castiel asks, though his hands already reaching out. 

Dean grabs Castiel’s hand, placing it firmly where the baby last kicked. It only takes a second before the baby starts kicking back, _hard_ , against the pressure. Castiel’s eyes go wide with awe.

“Oh,” he says wondrously, his mouth pressed into a quiet smile. 

“Kind of cool, right?” Dean beams. 

“They’re… they’re much stronger than the last time,” Castiel says quietly. 

Dean freezes, the alpha might as well have doused him in ice. 

Shit, he needs to stop doing this- this pulling away from Cas. It’s been over a month since he’s actually talked to the guy, let alone told him anything about the baby. And Cas has just taken it, letting Dean dictate the terms of his pregnancy, of _their_ baby’s life. No matter what Dean feels for Cas, this is still Cas’s child. The poor alpha’s been starving for some knowledge, of _something_ from Dean, even if it’s as little as the feel of a baby’s kick beneath their alpha father’s palm. God, he’s an asshole. 

“I’m sorry,” Dean stumbles out. “The baby is important to you too. Just because I’m freaking out-”

“It’s okay,” Cas tells him firmly, his hand still pressed against Dean’s belly, his fingers gently rubbing over it, concentration furrowed in his brow, like he’s trying to memorize each movement or trying to figure out a pattern with the kicks. Dean shivers beneath the alpha’s hand. 

“It’s not.” Dean places his hand onto his stomach, his fingertips so close to Castiel’s. 

Castiel coughs and pulls away, but his eyes still have that longing in them, one that tells Dean he wants to stay. 

“I should go back to work.” 

“Right.” 

Dean wants to tell him to stay. 

His stomach rumbles, drawing his attention back to the take-out going cold. Castiel smiles. 

“And you clearly need to eat. I’ll pick you up at 6 on Wednesday.” 

“Yeah, of course,” Dean says quietly. 

-

Castiel arrives five minutes early, though he pretends he’s right on time. 

It’s been a month since he’s spent any time with Dean, and that had been a disaster of his own making. His whole body prickles with nerves and he takes to pacing outside the omega’s door before he works up the nerve to knock. Before Dean answers, he’s already glanced down the hallway three times and wonders if he should just run for it. 

“It’s open,” he hears Dean call. “Let yourself in.” 

This is the moment he should run. 

He chooses to open the door instead. 

He finds Dean on the couch, feet up and a bag of what appears to be kale chips in his hand. Castiel hides the grimace as he watches the Dean take a handful of chips and sigh happily before he closes the bag. 

“Cas!” Dean says brightly, strugglingly to sit up. “Are you ready?” 

Castiel holds up a plastic bag filled with pencils, paper, two water bottles and some snacks. “I’m ready when you are.” 

They stare at each other for a moment before the omega turns red and mumbles something. 

“I’m sorry, Dean. What did you say?” 

Dean sighs, face flushed. “I said, I might need some help getting up.”

“Of course.” Castiel quickly pulls Dean up off the couch. They stand next to each other, Dean purposely looking anywhere but at Cas. 

“Is that sweatpants?” Castiel grins, looking down at the worn grey pants Dean is wearing. Castiel has never seen Dean in anything but suits or fitted jeans outside of his apartment, even being seven months pregnant hasn’t kept the omega from looking his best. 

“Sue me, I’m not wearing jean to a birthing class,” Dean grumbles. He pauses, biting his lip as he picks carefully the sweatpants. “Plus,” he admits, “these are the only things that fit me right now outside of work stuff.” 

“Should I take you shopping after class?”

“Let’s just get through this class first,” Dean huffs, pushing past Castiel. 

 

It only takes two arguments (“It’s this floor” “Funny, I’m pretty sure the brochure in my hand says it’s this floor”) and the amused, half-laughed directions from a nurse for Castiel and Dean to find the birthing class. At once, Castiel can see (and smell) that the class is just for male omegas, all of them spread out on the floor with their various beta and alpha partners sitting dutifully behind them. 

“Must be weird being the minority in the room, huh?” Dean practically cackles as he moves towards a free space he just spotted. “I wonder how that feels.” 

Castiel doesn’t say anything, choosing instead to watch the omega awkwardly lower himself down. Dean waves him over. 

“I need those pillows,” the omega grins, patting the empty space beside him. 

Castiel hurries over, quickly helping Dean find a comfortable position before sitting cross-legged next to him. He glances around the room, and sees that all the other alphas and betas have chosen to sit behind their omegas, their arms wrapped protectively around their mate’s expanding middles. 

And they’re all mates too, Castiel bitterly notices. 

“Dean, should I sit behind you? That appears to be the most comfortable position.”

Dean looks at him like he just proposed they dance the third act of _Swan Lake._

“It would be probably better for your back-”

“I can handle sitting by myself for an hour,” Dean says tightly. 

Dean peers around the room before he turns to Cas. 

“I don’t think my back can handle two hours though…” he admits meekly and Castiel eagerly shifts behind him. “I can believe they’re letting pregnant people sit on the floor,” Dean mumbles as he leans against Castiel. 

“I brought some snacks,” Castiel reaches over to the plastic bag. “And some water.”

“Cool it, man,” Dean says, though he’s clearly amused. The omega grabs Castiel’s hands and places them on his belly, Dean’s hands encasing his. “Don’t be nervous,” Dean squeezes lightly. “I’m the only one of us that’s allowed to be that.” 

The chatter dies down when a rail thin omega in scrubs enters the room. Announcing that his name is Garth and that he’s their instructor, the omega jumps quickly into a brief explanation of the course and what to expect from it before he makes the room introduce themselves. 

Castiel can feel his throat tighten and his stomach twist as each couple introduces themselves. His hunch about them all being mated proves to be correct, everyone of them beaming as they introduce their mates. Dean taps nervously on his belly, the omega reeking of anxiety. 

“Um…” Dean blushes when Garth turns to them. He looks quickly to Castiel. “I’m Dean, and this is Castiel…”

“His alpha,” Castiel blurts out. Dean frowns at him and mumbles “what the hell” under his breath. Cas shrugs, powering through. “And we’re excited for this class,” he finishes lamely. No mention of their due date or happy they are about the pregnancy. Already, he can feel the room turn against them. 

“How did you two meet?” Garth prompts. Everyone else eagerly told stories in loving tones about meet-cutes in classrooms and cafes or blushes tales told with smirks and giggles about bars and clubs. 

“Uh…”

“At work,” Dean says stiffly, his arms crossed like he’s daring Garth to ask more. Garth apparently gets the message, looking almost frantically at the next couple, his grin wide but manic as he hurriedly asks them the same question. 

“I’m sorry,” Castiel whispers as the tiny omega next to them babbles eagerly on about his good, kind alpha. Dean scoffs under his breath, though his attention is clearly on the alpha father, whose busy cuddling his pregnant mate. 

“Dean,” Cas repeats.

“I got it,” Dean says gruffly, his body stiff against Castiel’s.

Still, Dean seems to enjoy the class, or least he takes it seriously. He lets Castiel cradle him, lets the rest of the class believe that they’re together, and that Castiel is his _alpha_ , though every time Dean calls him that, it’s so pointed, so biting, that Castiel can feel it cutting into him. And when they practice breathing techniques for contractions, Dean squeezes his hand hard, to the point it looks clearly bruised by the end of class. 

“Stop shaking it,” Dean says without pity. “I barely touched it.” 

Castiel rolls his eyes. He’s paid back though when Garth is shows them pictures of cervixes in various stages of dilations. Dean pales before him. 

“There’s no way a _human head_ will fit through there,” he mutters loudly, the rest of the class burst out laughing at this. 

“I mean it,” Dean mumbles to himself, but he keeps quiet for the rest of the class. 

Finally, Garth announces that it’s nine and that everyone should pack up. The rest of the class does so slowly, casually chatting with each other, all cheery and smiling. Dean doesn’t even let the omega sitting next to him say ‘hi’ before he tries to get up and hurry out. 

“Cas, let’s go,” he says firmly, hand outstretched for the alpha to help him up. 

“Do you not-”

Dean shakes his head. 

He’s barely on his feet before he’s out the door, leaving Cas to apologize to the baffled couple next to them. 

“Dean!” Castiel calls out when he reaches the parking lot and finds the omega nowhere in sight. “Dean!” 

“I’m right here,” Dean yells. He’s sitting on bench just off from the hospital entrance, rubbing his belly absentmindedly as he stares out into the parking lot. 

“Dean,” Castiel repeats with relief. Dean huffs, his breath visible in the night air. “We should go home.” 

“Are you telling me that as my _alpha_ ,” Dean bites out. 

“Dean, I didn’t mean anything-”

“You had no right to do that. To tell everyone that. Is that how you think of me? As your fucking mate? Like you can possess me or some shit like that? Think that because you knocked me up, you have some claim over me? _My alpha?_ ” 

“I’d thought you’d be embarrassed,” Castiel growls. “I’d thought with everyone being _mated_ in there, it would be easier for you just to pretend.” 

“Like I care what they think,” Dean scoffs. 

“Well, I do,” Castiel confesses. “I didn’t want them to look at you like you're some dumb omega who got knocked up or that couldn’t get an alpha to commit to him.” 

“Hate to tell you, but I am some dumb omega-”

“-You’re not, Dean, not at all. You’re so much better than that… that perception you have of yourself.” 

Dean blinks at him, before wiping his eyes. “Sure,” he mumbles.

Castiel pulls out his keys. “I’ll tell them next week if you want. I can fix this.” 

Dean shakes his head, but pats Castiel’s arms gently. “Might as well keep it between ourselves,” he smiles weakly. “It’s just embarrassing at this point. For your sake, I’ll keep the illusion going.”

“For my sake,” Castiel grins, helping the omega up. 

Dean rolls his eyes. “I’m going to regret this.” 

“After what you did to my hand, you deserve it.” 

Dean’s laugh echoes loud and bright across the parking lot. 

 


	11. Chapter 11

“We should probably get our story straight.”

Castiel looks up from the pile of clothes he’s currently sorting through. _Did Dean want the pants or did he say they were too tight?_

“What do you mean?” Castiel’s brows furrow as he lifts up a grey t-shirt, throwing it over the dressing room door. 

“Thanks Cas,” Dean calls. He can hear the omega shift and struggle to get out of a pair of pants. 

“Do you need help?” Castiel knocks gently. The omega grunts out a no. 

“Before class tonight,” Dean continues, opening the door gingerly. “You know, the whole Dean and Cas story, the big love story.” Dean gently pokes the alpha’s side. “Like how we met and shit.” 

Castiel’s eyes move over the curves of the omega and the fit of the jeans. Dean huffs impatiently. 

“I regret saying anything now.” 

“Good,” Dean grabs the t-shirt Castiel is holding. “I take it the jeans are good.” 

Castiel nods and the omega heads back into the changing room. Castiel doesn’t even get to sit before he hears the muffled attempt of Dean trying to continue the conversation. 

“If we’ve gotta attend this class for three more weeks we need to tell them something we both agree on,” Dean calls out breathlessly. “Son of a bitch.” 

“Are you sure-”

“I’m fine,” Dean says sharply. “We said we met at work…” 

“I suppose telling them that we fucked in a conference in Miami and forgot to use protection is out of the question,” Castiel deadpans. 

“God yes,” Dean laughs before stepping out of the change room again, this time with all his stuff gathered in his arms. Castiel jumps up quickly, taking the fairly large pile they agreed upon. 

“We should just say sparks flew when we met and we mated on the conference table while our horrified co-workers fled the room. People like that stuff,” Dean grins, placing the discarded goods on a table. 

Castiel barks out a laugh. “Hm… or that you were an unqualified secretary and after a week of watching you make mistakes I finally had to discipline you-”

“-And what? While you were spanking me, you looked me in the eyes and just knew we were supposed to be mates,” Dean scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Cas, we can’t tell anyone that. It’s so fucking cliched.” 

“There were approximately four stories about meeting their mates on the first day of class,” Castiel points out. “So even if it is “cliched”, as you put it, it must happen.” 

“You want us to have a mate-at-first-sight romance, huh?” Dean nudges the alpha, a grin wide on his face. 

“Never.” 

Dean frowns, looking at him like if he stares hard enough, the alpha’s love life will reveal itself on Cas’s face. 

“Huh,” Dean says dumbly. 

He watches the omega before they hurry up to the cash register, before Dean mumbles something. 

“Sorry, I didn’t hear you,” Castiel turns to the omega. 

“I had that,” Dean confesses, looking down at his hands. He sighs before he looks up at Castiel. “Not the mating thing…. but, uh, the love at first sight and all that crap. We definitely thought we were going to be mated, hell maybe even married, but we were young and thought we had all the time left in the world. Thank god we never…” 

Dean looks back down at his hands, his face tense. 

“It didn’t work out… obviously,” Dean clears his throat. “He left me… I mean, it was long over before he left, we had both fucked up so many times, but yeah, that’s my great love at first sight story. Sucks doesn’t it?”

“Dean…” Castiel says quietly.

“And you never had that?” the omega asks sharply, like he doubts him. 

Castiel shakes his head. 

“You can tell the class whatever you want about us,” Dean says quickly. “I don’t care.”

Castiel opens his mouth to reassure him that it’s fine, that he’d prefer to stick to a story they both could agree upon, but the beta that had been helping them earlier calls them up to the counter and Castiel is forced to drop it. 

“You two did well,’ she says brightly, folding the large pile before her. “It’s nice when alphas take an interest in shopping for their omegas. Most just give them the card and let them go wild.” 

Castiel looks to Dean to see if the omega will protest, but Dean just reddens and nods. The beta ignores both of them, chattering on about how cute they look together and how helpful Cas had been. 

Neither of them say anything.

The beta finally takes a breath to tell them the total and Cas, relieved to finally leave the store, puts down his card. 

“Dude, no.” Dean protests. 

“Dean, I said I would treat you.” 

“You definitely didn’t. You said you’d drive me to the mall. That’s enough.” 

Dean slams his card on top of Cas’s. The smile on the beta falters and her eyes dart to both of them. 

“I said I would pay for this,” Castiel says firmly. He doesn’t want to make a scene, doesn’t want the illusion that they’re happily mated to end just because Dean is too stubborn to let him help. He talks directly to the beta, ignoring Dean. “It will be on my card.” 

“It’s on my card,” Dean snaps. “Sweetheart,” the omega turns to the baffled beta, “you better use my card or I’m calling your manager.” 

Both the sales girl and Dean flush red, but she takes the omega’s card and quickly (and nervously) finishes the sale. During the entire thing, Dean refuses to look up, only mumbling a thank you when the beta takes the card. 

“Dean,” Castiel says quietly, reaching out for the omega. Dean ignores him though, and just as the beta hands over the receipt and card, he pushes past him and hurries out the store. 

Castiel’s first instinct is to follow, but he knows Dean and he knows that he wants to blow off steam for a bit. It’s not like Dean’s going to leave him there. The omega is too big to drive, and they both have a birthing class to attend to. 

Instead of waiting awkwardly outside the store where everyone inside currently thinks his omega just left him, Castiel wanders the mall, ducking into stores to pick up a few things he needs. 

He steps into a baby store, clearly upscale and manned by two bored looking sales associates who are busy chatting with each other. They both look suspiciously at him, but apparently he looks harmless enough as they soon turn back to each other. 

He already has a few things for the baby. Some onesies, light green and beige, a plush bee that he hopes might be his child’s favourite stuffed animal. He even has a box of newborn diapers, picked up absentmindedly during the last time he grocery shopped. Still, he eagerly seeks out the onesies, marvelling over how impossibly tiny some of them are. 

He gets a text from Dean as he moves down the row, an impatient _Where are u?_ which he quickly replies to. 

It doesn’t take long before Castiel sees Dean hurrying in looking for him, red-faced and looking extreme irritable. Castiel waves him over, happy that Dean has finally come to his senses and also that he’s not alone in the store where the two sales associates keep looking at him like he’s shoplifting. 

“Dude, really?” Dean huffs. Castiel silently takes the bags from Dean’s hand. “You’ve just been creeping in here for what the last half hour? Just you and that trench coat?” 

Castiel frowns, looking down at his coat. It’s cold outside. 

“It was… awkward without you,” he admits, glancing at the two sales associates who continue to stare at him suspiciously. 

Dean turns to them, pointing at his stomach. “I’m clearly pregnant,” he calls out. “This isn’t like a stolen basketball or something.” 

“Dean,” Castiel admonishes fondly. 

Dean grins at him. 

“Dude, what’s that?” Dean points to the package of onesies in Castiel’s hands. He moves to put it back, but the omega grabs it from him. 

“Seriously?” the omega laughs. “You want something from this store?” Dean looks around. “All of this overpriced crap. Half of it is too fussy or too expensive to put on an actual baby.” The omega holds up a pair of laced covered bottoms that even Castiel knows is ridiculous and impractical. “Really?” 

Castiel shrugs. “I don’t see the harm in grabbing a few more onesies.” 

“Right,” the omega mumbles, shoving the package at Castiel. “Knock yourself out.” 

Dean remains silent beside him as Castiel browses for a few more items. Reluctantly, the omega picks up a few bottles and some pieces of clothing. 

“So what other stuff have you gotten?” Dean asks quietly as he examines some glass bottles. 

Castiel rubs the back of his neck. 

Is it weird, he wonders, for an alpha to buy stuff separate from their omega. Does Dean have a preference or is Castiel being pushy? 

“Just a few outfits, some bottles and blankets,” Castiel confesses. “A few toys and some books.” 

“Dude, that’s… uh, that’s great.” 

“I hope I wasn’t too presumptuous-”

“No, that’s awesome. I’ve been looking too,” the omega adds quickly. “But, uh, my mom told me not to get much yet. Save it all for the baby shower.” 

“So you are planning on having a shower?” Castiel asks surprised. 

“Apparently,” Dean laughs. The omega absentmindedly rubs his belly, grinning as he looks down. “My folks are flying out soon and throwing me one. You’re invited, of course. And your parents and family.” 

“My mother will hate that,” Castiel smiles. “Thank you.” 

“So I won’t ruin anything if I send her an invite?” Dean asks carefully.

“No,” Cas shakes his head. “She knows and disapproves if her weekly emails are anything to go by.” 

“Good, hate to ruin your deep dark secret and all that.” 

“You’re not a deep dark secret, Dean,” Castiel rolls his eyes. “I had to tell her. It would have been unpleasant if I just showed up with a baby strapped to my chest.” 

“I still think that’s the best way to go about it,” Dean grins. 

“I’m inclined to agree with you.” 

The hairs on the back of Castiel’s neck still prick up when he remembers the conversation (a polite word for a screaming match) that occurred when he had called his mother and told her about Dean and the baby. There had been sobbing, statements about him throwing his life away and questions about his alpha-ness when he told her that he did not mate the omega he had impregnated. He could only hope that his mother had calmed down enough be on her best behaviour for the shower. 

“This does bring to question the etiquette around co-parenting. Do we ask for two of everything?” Castiel points out. 

“What do you mean?” Dean asks sharply, though when Castiel looks at him, it is very clear that the omega knows exactly what he means. Dean looks warily at him, his hand placed firmly on his bump and the air fills with the scent of protective omega. 

Castiel steps back. He knows Dean has thought about this question, has wondered like him how exactly are they going to do this. In theory, co-parenting involves split custody, the hope that they could share their child between them equally, but he knows how helpless newborns are, how protective omegas are with them and that Dean would not be separated from the baby for weeks, maybe even months. If this interaction is anything to go by, it is unlikely that Dean will let Castiel take their baby for a night, let alone a weekend. He knows this. 

“Just…” Cas says carefully. “You know the baby will be at my place once in a while.” 

“I guess,” Dean shrugs. “I mean, not when they’re really little, so you don’t have to worry about anything yet.” 

“Right,” Castiel says doubtfully.

-

Cas just has to ruin everything. 

Not like Dean was expecting to have a great time or anything, but still, Cas didn’t have to ruin it. 

Actually, the night wasn’t that terrible. After finally admitting that his pants (and every other article of clothing he had) didn’t fit him, he reluctantly took Cas up on his offer to take him shopping and Cas had promised not to be weird about it or to make it awkward or anything, and for the most part, Cas had kind of kept his promise (as much as that weird little dude could anyways). 

In fact, it had been kind of… _fun_. 

Despite the fact that Cas purposely chosen to wear some ugly ass trench coat, the dude had pretty good taste in clothes. Plus it was hilarious watching the alpha shop. 

Cas took to shopping like Dean expected he did with every other decision making process in his life. Brows furrowed, attention firmly on what was in front of him, Dean had waited as Cas carefully sorted and picked out items for him, only handing them over to the omega when he was sure it would fit and suit Dean well. It took forever, but Dean never got bored watching the alpha examine each piece of clothing like he was gonna be tested on it later. 

Not only did Cas have no problem running around a store catered for pregnant omegas, the alpha seemed happy enough to sit outside the change room and wait as Dean struggled to get his pants off and then on. 

(It was a whole lot less amusing though when every item Cas had picked out for him had fit perfectly and felt unbelievably comfortable whereas most of Dean’s picks had been discarded on the floor long before Dean could even show the alpha.)

So Dean had been having a pretty good time. There had been a few missteps, like Cas thinking Dean’s some trophy omega that needed clothing bought for him, but even Dean could see it wasn’t intentional knotheadness, after he indulged in his craving for ice cream he pretty much had forgiven the alpha and was back in the camp of “shopping with Cas is not too terrible”. 

Of course, Cas had to open his big mouth and ask about the baby shower and how they were actually gonna raise this kid and now Dean’s in his own head freaking out as some alpha he screwed once (twice, TWICE, his mind reminds him gleefully) drives him to their birthing class.

The car feels small, almost like it’s getting smaller and smaller and trapping Dean within. He shifts and tugs at the seatbelt, hoping that if he does that, he can breathe properly, and not feel like each gasp he takes could be his last as all the oxygen disappears. 

Cas is oblivious beside him, his fingers tapping gently on the steering wheel as they pull into a parking lot, lowly humming as he parks the car and Dean feels like he’s dying. 

He blames the stupid hormones for making him feel all protective. Like he knows rationally Cas isn’t going to take his baby from him and never let him see it again. Logically, he knows he actually holds more power being the carrier parent and all, as traditionally the courts usually give omega parents custody over alphas. 

Still, his stomach gnaws within him and his breath is shallow and it feels like it’s taking up the entire car, but he glances down and feels this urge to run, to escape. 

This is all Castiel’s fault. First for making him feel all safe and like an alpha is gonna take care of him and not leave. Second for suggesting that Castiel has some claim over him, which he does.

Castiel finally parks the car and pulls out the bag filled with things they need (and Dean’s sweatpants, as he refuses to enter a public space without proper pants, even when said pants didn’t actually button up). 

“You better hurry up and put these _sexy_ sweatpants,” Castiel teases, shaking the bag at him. “Time to break out- how did you put it?- _these bad boys?_ ”

Dean laughs, though it sounds hollow to him, ‘cause it only reminds him how good he felt earlier when Cas picked him up and that despite all the teasing from his sister, it was certainly _not_ a date and Dean was just glad to have pants that finally fit him and Cas just had to show up and say he looked nice. 

The alpha grins though and offers Dean a hand, tugging him out of seat and carefully holding the small of his back so that the omega doesn’t stumble. 

Dean’s furious by the time they enter the birthing class. 

He takes one glance around the room, looking at all these happily mated couples, and decides he’s going to have fun with this. 

He grabs Cas’s hand and holds it tight, looking sweetly at the surprised alpha. 

“Babe, where do you want to sit?” he asks the alpha. Castiel’s eyes narrow at him. 

“Dean, what are you-”

“How about over there?” he smiles, yanking the alpha next to a couple he remembers vaguely from the last class. Another alpha/omega pairing, and, if he remembers correctly, they met in Psych 101. 

“Babe, a little help?” Dean holds up a pillow. 

Castiel glares at him, but grabs the pillow, plumping it before throwing it on the ground. Even though the alpha is clearly pissed at him for this little show, Cas still helps him sit down before placing himself dutifully behind Dean. 

He feels Cas lean in to whisper something to him, so Dean grabs the alpha’s hand, placing it on his belly. He knows the baby kicking always seems to calm Cas down and sure enough, Cas’s scent changes to a protective solace as the baby squirms beneath the alpha’s hand. Dean keeps his hand there, his thumbs gently rubbing against the alpha’s. He hums with relief when he feels Castiel relax behind him. 

Dean turns to the couple beside them. 

“Alphas, am I right?” he tells the omega of the pair. “Barely let’s me dress myself, he’s so worried and overprotective.” 

He swears he can see heart eyes on the omega. 

“Your first?” he asks eagerly. 

Dean nods. “But definitely not our last if Cas has his way,” he laughs tightly, nudging Cas gently. 

“Dean,” Cas hisses. 

“Ah, look, he’s embarrassed.” Dean grins, grabbing onto Castiel’s hand. “How about you guys? Your first?” 

Dean listens vaguely as the couple chatter excitedly to him about their baby and he sort of regrets this whole happily mated charade that he agreed on with the two of them looking so delighted with becoming parents and so in love with each other. They don’t have to have fucking awkward discussions about where their baby is going to sleep at night. 

He clutches Castiel’s hand a little tighter. 

Garth comes in before Dean has a chance to reply to the omega. The rest of the class goes smoothly. His little so-in-love-with-his-alpha act must’ve gone over well, as when he comes back from grabbing some orange slices, a group of expecting parents have surrounded Castiel. 

He hears someone ask Cas how they met. 

“At work,” the alpha tells them, ducking his head shyly, a small smile on his face. It doesn’t stop the crowd though, as a tiny little omega touches the alpha’s arm, gently pushing him to tell them more. 

“Aw come on, there’s got to be more than that. When did you figure out you wanted Dean as your mate,” he asks merrily, the rest of group begging to hear more. 

The alpha has a stunned expression on his face and looks down at the omega slightly puzzled. Dean stuffs an orange slice into his mouth to hide his grin. This is going to be too good. 

“Uh… it wasn’t right away,” Cas says lowly, like he’s actually confessing something. The guy’s a good actor, Dean could give him that. “Actually, when we first met, we hated each other.” 

“No way,” an alpha laughs. “I’d never believe that.” 

“It’s true,” Castiel frowns. “He was… very arrogant. Apparently he thought the same of me.” 

The group laughs. 

“We were both obsessed with work and at the time we were the only two in our department, so our mutual dislike rapidly became a competition. Quite the competition,” Cas adds fondly. 

“So… when did all that change. When did you realize you wanted to mate him?” asks the omega who Dean had talked at the start of the class. 

“At a meeting,” Castiel smiles, and it’s the sort that is gummy and confessional, like he can’t keep it off his face. 

“Our company is not very progressive with omegas and a lot of the alphas and betas that work there treat them poorly. Dean is the only omega in our department,” Castiel tells the group proudly. “He’s better than any of them.”

Dean can feel his cheeks burn and he tries to swallow, but his throat feels closed off, most likely because his heart has decided to shove itself up there. He can barely hear Cas. 

“There was this meeting the week before and all these alphas had been teasing him, treating him awful, calling him names and he did nothing. He just took it. At first I thought he was just being…” Castiel takes a deep breath and says apologetically, “an omega about it, letting them walk all over him. I know, I’m sorry,” he looks at the omegas before him. 

“I was wrong, obviously,” Cas continues. “The next meeting he comes in with all the confidence of an alpha CEO and just destroys them. And I could tell he was proud of himself, even though he just smiled and looked down when our boss was praising him… that’s when I knew Dean was something special.”

Dean remembers that meeting, remembers how good it felt to show all those sons of bitches that he wasn’t just some dumb omega there on luck, that he was actually good at his job, better than any of those knotheads. He remembers looking up from his presentation to the stony faces of his co-workers, all silent, all seething, defeated by him. 

He also remembers looking to Cas, surprised to see the alpha looking at him strangely, not angry, not defeated, not ashamed like the other guys. He couldn’t quite figure out just what Cas was thinking then, but now it seems so clear, so obvious. 

Dean coughs, tapping the alpha on the shoulder. He holds out some orange slices. 

‘We should get going.” 

Cas nods, taking the orange slice. “Of course, Dean.” 

-

“So… it was a date.”

Dean rolls his eyes. 

“It wasn’t a date,” Jo says from the floor. “Because hanging out for like four hours with someone you like and someone who _likes_ you is not a date.” 

“First,” Dean points to Jo, who waves, “it was not a date, because you do not take a date shopping and then to a birthing class. Who does that?” Jo shrugs and mutters "Apparently you do." Dean chooses to ignore that. He points to Charlie who pulls the sheets firmly to her side. “Second, Cas does not _like_ me.” 

Charlie and Jo scoff. 

“He practically told you he popped his knot thinking about you,” Jo grins, pulling herself off the floor. 

“Charlie,” Dean whines. Why does he tell anyone anything?

“He did,” Charlie agrees. Dean quickly grabs his back and groans. 

“You okay?” Charlie hurries over to him. “Is it the baby?” 

“No, I’m fine, I just have this pain from someone stabbing me in the back.” 

Charlie rolls her eyes. 

Jo snorts.  “You’re such a drama queen.”

She turns to Charlie. “It was clearly a date, he spent like an hour picking out something to wear.”

“Because I’m _eight months pregnant_ and nothing fits me,” Dean cries out. Charlie and Jo burst out laughing, which gives him the opportunity to pull the sheets over to his side. 

“Hold it there, big guy,” Jo jumps up, taking the sheet from him. “Like you said, you’re eight months pregnant, don’t need to exert yourself too much.” 

Dean huffs, but carefully sits down, only half protesting Jo taking over for him. His back does actually hurt and it is far easier for Jo to maneuver around. Together, Jo and Charlie finish making the bed in about half the time it took Dean (and Charlie) to get the bottom sheet on, and Dean's pretty much exhausted from doing that. Still, he needs to vacuum and get dinner started before his folks show up. He's thankful Charlie showed up even after he cancelled their plans, although he's sort of suspicious what with Jo and Charlie teaming up against him. 

He must’ve nodded off, ‘cause he wakes to a door slamming shut and the sound of his mother's voice steadily rising in the main room. 

“What in tarnations are you doing here?” 

Dean jumps up (as fast as he can) and hurries into the main room. 

His parents have been in his apartment for all of five seconds and it already looks like a spaghetti western stand off. His mom stands with her suitcases beside her, hands on her hips like she’s about to draw out a pistol and kill his little sister and Jo mirrors their mom, her arms crossed, her mouth tight. 

He should’ve expected that. 

His dad looks at him and nods, nudging his mom. “Ellen,” he says quietly. 

His mom looks over at him and her face softens. 

“Don’t think this is over, Joanna Beth,” she says firmly, but hurries over to Dean, pulling him into her embrace. 

“Look at you,” she practically coos, stepping back to look him up and down. “You’ve gotten so big.” She places her hands on the sides of Dean’s expanding middle and grins. In the corner of Dean’s eye, he sees Jo roll her eyes and mutter “of course”. 

“Has the baby been kicking a lot?” his mom asks, pressing harder like she somehow missed the movement. 

“Too much,” Dean grunts. “Don’t encourage them.”

His mom shakes her head at that crazy idea. She gives him the third degree about his health, how he's feeling and anything about the baby.

"And you've bought anything yet?" she asks firmly. 

Dean thinks about the onesies he bought mostly out of guilt hiding under his bed and shakes his head. "Nothing." 

"Good."

"Better be," Bobby calls out. "We took up half the plane with all the baby crap Ellen's been storing." 

His mom turns to Bobby. "You're the one who bought half that crap. A wipe warmer, really?"

His dad shrugs. "I'm allowed to spoil my grandkid." 

His mom rolls her eyes, but winks at Dean. 

“And Cas, has he been treating you well?” she asks carefully. Dean can sense her alpha hackles rising. 

“Yeah, sure.” 

There's no doubt that Cas is treating him well. Of course, there's that little fact that Castiel actually _likes_ him and all, which leads Dean to a whole other new set of problems that he doesn't want to deal with. 

“They went on a date,” Jo calls out gleefully and Dean’s frankly glad his mom is going to kill her later. 

“That so,” his dad grins slyly. “Dean, you didn’t tell us.” 

“It wasn’t a date.” 

“And they’ve done other stuff,” Charlie chimes in, unhelpfully from the kitchen.

“Dean, who the hell is this?” Ellen asks, staring down the red-headed omega. Charlie meekly waves an oven-glove covered hand. 

“That’s Charlie, I work with her,” Dean says. 

“I’m his friend,” Charlie adds cheerfully, though Dean can hear _you dumb-ass_ underneath. "And apparently your personal chef tonight. Call me-"

“-She’s, uh, just helping us with some stuff," Dean jumps in. "Probably leaving now.” 

“Right, I am,” Charlie nods, grinning at Dean in a way that means he owes her big time. God damn it, he's probably gonna have to be her handmaiden or something. “I’ll see you guys around, probably at the shower. Nice to meet you, Dean’s parents. Jo,” she nods again. Jo flushes. 

His mom looks between Dean and Jo and mumbles “right”. 

“Jo, help me with our stuff. Careful with that one.”

Jo rolls her eyes and drags the largest suitcase towards the guest bedroom. They both know what's going happen when Jo leaves, but Dean just shakes his head. He warned her this was going happen. Sure enough, the door opens and he hears "What the hell were you thinking-" before the door slams shut. 

Bobby ignores all of them and heads for the couch, flipping on the TV, a beer in hand. Dean sits gingerly next to his father. He’s never really cared for football, but right now he’d take that over listening to his mom ream Jo out. 

“So I take it Jo told you guys.” 

Bobby grunts. “I wish. The school called us about a refund or something.” 

At that moment, the yelling gets louder. Bobby turns up the volume and opens his beer. 

“I love both of you, but you’re both idjits,” he says, taking a sip. 

Dean’s partial to agree. 

 


	12. Chapter 12

“Dean, don’t get up!”

Dean huffs, dropping himself back down onto the couch as his mother hurries to the door. Apparently since this is _his_ party, he’s not allowed to help. That’s fine on the most part, ‘cause he’d rather watch Jo and Bobby struggle to put up banners than actually help out (plus, he’s pretty sure pregnant people aren’t supposed to climb ladders and shit), but it also means that he can’t do things like _greet people at doors_. 

“It’s going to be a busy day. I don’t want you tired out before it begins,” his mother told him when he offered to slice up _cheese_ before guiding him over to the couch where she firmly told him to stay put. 

So he gets to watch this disaster unfold before him and he can’t even distract himself by folding napkins or whatever you’re supposed to do at these things. 

“Dad,” he whines, mostly because he has nothing better to do and he’s tired of watching his family “decorate” his apartment. Right now the walls are covered in streamers, balloons, and cardboard cutouts of baby carriages and bottles. There’s a goddamn stork staring at him. 

“Don’t look at me,” his dad grunts. “Damn it, Jo. I don’t think this side is high enough.” 

“Fuck,” Jo groans. “Dean, tell us if the sign is straight!” 

“Sure,” Dean pulls out his phone. “Right on it.” 

**Waiting for my mother’s flight to arrive. Apparently a shower for her first grandchild doesn’t warrant a two day vacation. I believe similar rules applied for my birth.**

Dean grins, because yeah, this party is going to be a complete mess. He offered to meet up with Cas’s mother before the shower, but apparently Cas’s mother runs like seven businesses and can’t even stay for night, let alone the weekend. He’s not sure if Cas is relieved with that fact or not, but this means Dean gets to meet his kid’s second grandma for the first time in front of a bunch of strangers (plus his family), so that won’t be embarrassing or anything. 

That message was from two hours ago, so Dean sends a text politely asking (begging) for Cas to hurry up. 

“Dean!” Jo yells, half a banner falling on her head. “Is this straight!”

Dean jerks up from his phone. The banner is decidedly crooked. 

“Looks good to me.”

“Which end is wonky, asshole.” 

“Dad’s.” 

“You’re slacking, old man,” Jo gloats to Bobby, who mumbles some curse words and something about “damn kids”, but Dean doesn’t hear it clearly as he feels two arms surround him. 

“Dean!” Charlie yells into his ears. “Look at how swanky this place is.” 

Dean makes eye contact with a cardboard stork just as his sister and dad curse loudly behind him. 

“Did you bring pie?” he asks desperately, ‘cause the only cure for a room that’s been painted pastel pink and blue (and for his family and _Cas’s family)_ is pie. 

“Yeah, left it with your mom,” Charlie points to the kitchen where his mom is currently directing Sam on where to put his platter of what Dean fears is carrots and celery sticks on the already overflowing counter. 

“Thank god,” he mutters, just as the banner falls off the wall. 

When the party actually begins, the decorations have been put up, stubborn banner and all, Dean is situated on the couch with Charlie fulfilling her promise of being _his_ handmaiden for the day. 

“Don’t get use to this,” she says, handing over a pie filled plate. 

A couple of players from a tabletop game he’s played with Charlie a few times have shown up, which is a little weird but also sort of sweet and it’s totally worth the mutters of “nerd” from Jo and Sam since he gets to talk about world building and battle strategies for a couple of hours, which also means he doesn’t have to think about the fact that Cas hasn’t shown up yet. 

Not that Cas not being here goes unnoticed. Dean can handle the stupid puppy eye looks Sam keeps giving him and how worried Charlie looks every time they make eye contact, but it’s the questions from basically strangers that twist his stomach and makes the bile rise within him. Between cooing about how _adorable_ he looks pregnant and petting his stomach, there’s the pointed question of where Cas is or why they aren’t mated yet. One older lady is particularly insistent, asking him if they’re waiting until the baby is born to mate before slipping in a comment that Cas must be one of those old school alphas who don’t attend their partner’s baby showers. 

“He’s not,” Dean says stiffly, before excusing himself for the bathroom.

Finally alone, he dials Cas, but he only gets voicemail. He wonders if he can hide in the bathroom until the party is over. 

Someone knocks on the door, asking irately how long he’s going to be. He wipes his face and struggles to get up from the toilet seat. According to his phone, he’s been in here for almost forty minutes. 

“Sorry,” he mutters, trying to push past a beta woman. 

“Jeez, you okay?” she asks, reaching out. 

“I’m fine,” Dean says, stepping away of her grip. 

“Sure you are,” she rolls her eyes, gently pushing him back in the bathroom. “You look like crap, which is totally fine if this was a party at a frat house and not a baby shower.” 

Dean lets out a watery chuckle. 

“Do I know you?” 

“Family friend, I think. My father worked with your mother before. Anyways, I’m here representing the Blakes.” She sticks out a hand. “Sarah.” 

“Dean Smith. Pregnant hot mess.” 

“And what are we going to do about that?” she demands, not unkindly. 

“If you say talk about my feelings and cry on your shoulder, I’m locking you in here.” 

“God no,” she scrunches her nose. “All that crying would ruin my blouse.” 

Dean chuckles watery. 

“So what is a pregnant omega doing hiding out in a bathroom? I’d say it’s-”

“-Don’t say hormones.” 

“Hormones,” she winks at him playfully. “Or it could be that missing baby daddy that we’re not supposed to mention, or it could it be that you’re feeling really judged right now about your whole situation. Maybe it’s a combination of all three.” 

Dean looks darkly at her. 

“Maybe I’m taking my time in the bathroom because I’m constipated all the time.” 

“So all three,” she concludes, ignoring Dean’s comment. “That’s gotta be tough. A whole room full of people questioning your life, waiting to see how you’ll react, thinking you’re too fragile right now to make any clear decisions.” 

“Fuck,” Dean sputters. “Have you read my diary or something?” 

“Pregnant dude hiding out in his bathroom at his own party- not hard to figure out. Plus, you know, the whole way society treats pregnant people and all that crap.” 

Dean looks at his phone, heavy in his hand. “Right…. so what I am supposed to do about it?”

“To hell if I know,” Sarah grins. “Tell them off?” 

“You have met my mother, right?”

“Might as well do it now while you’re all sweet and pregnant looking. An alpha would never hurt a pregnant omega.” 

“Great,” Dean rolls his eyes. “Real helpful.” 

“Well, I deal with antiques, not psych textbooks, so that’s all I got.” She pats his arm. “Seriously, if you don’t like how your family is treating you, tell them.” 

Dean stares at her. 

“I, uh,” she coughs. “I actually do need the bathroom.” 

“God, right,” Dean blushes, stepping out the bathroom and heads directly towards Sam, whose busy talking with some handsy retiree. 

“Dean!” exclaims Sam, desperation clear upon his face. “I’ve been looking for you.” 

Sam quickly apologizes to the lady he’s talking to and hurries Dean away. 

“Didn’t mean to keep you from your hot date,” Dean chuckles, glancing back at the old lady, who waves at Sam. 

Sam rolls his eyes. “I didn’t know you needed to get frisked to enter this party.”

“We like to keep it classy at Casa Smith,” Dean smirks. “But we do have a bedroom free if you need it.” 

“Gross, Dean.” 

“Alright, alright,” Dean grins. “Uh… have you seen Cas around? He’s not here and I'm thinking maybe he's avoiding me or something?”

Sam frowns. “No, haven’t seen him. Might’ve missed him with Gertie and all.” 

“Gertie- that’s short for-”

“Gertrude, yeah.” The corner’s of Sam’s mouth twitch. 

Dean slaps Sam’s arm gently. 

“You’re such a ladies man, Sam. If I had known better-”

“Dean.” 

“It’s okay, Sammy. A person with a little experience is-”

“No, Dean. Someone is staring at you.” 

Dean follows Sam’s gaze to a woman standing in the corner. She’s tall and dominating, and she stands like the entire room is beneath her, her grey suit pressed perfectly and her red hair tied neatly in a bun, but she also looks out of place, her eyes darting nervously around as if she’s searching from someone. When she makes eye contact with Dean, her shoulders drop as if she’s relieved to see him and she nods at him knowingly. 

“Um…” 

“Dude, do you know her?” Sam asks. 

“No, never seen her before.” 

That doesn’t seem to stop her from walking towards him, her stride precise and purposefully. She walks so much like an alpha that Sam mumbles something quickly about getting more food before he turns and runs away. Traitor. 

“You must be the guest of honour,” she says, her voice so loud and clear it seems to silence the room. Although Dean could’ve guessed by the walk and the general manner, it was obvious how alpha she was by her smell, the scent of which clouds his nose. 

She stares at him unblinking, her eyes wide yet also calculating. Dean shifts restlessly under her steady gaze, although when her eyes trail down to where his hand cradles his belly, her stare softens and she smiles. 

“Dean Smith,” she says slowly as if testing the name out on her lips. “I’ve heard so much about you.” 

“You have? Of course you must’ve,” Dean stammers nervously. “Seeing that this is my baby shower and all.” 

“Yes, of course. _Your_ baby shower,” she says doubtfully, though she continues to stare at him. 

Dean shifts under gaze and he wishes desperately for Sam to come back, but he when looks for the beta, he sees that Sam's busy talking with Sarah. Of course Sammy’s too busy hooking up to help him. 

“Uh,” he begins dumbly. 

“Dean,” the alpha says sharply. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you-”

Dean hisses, his hand reaching for his back as a spasm of pain shoots through him. He leans over, breathing heavily as the alpha jumps towards him. 

“Are you okay?” she asks 

“I’m fine,” Dean grunts, slowly looking up. “Just some back pain from carrying this bowling ball around.” 

He rubs at his belly, the baby kicking frantically beneath his hand. 

“And, of course, someone’s decided to wake up,” he chuckles weakly. 

The alpha pales beside him, her grip on his arm becoming firmer. 

“Let’s get you to the couch,” she says, hand on his back, before leading him over. 

The shooting pain has largely died down to dull throbbing one. Dean still groans as he sits, though the relief is almost instant. The alpha hovers beside him, her hand on his shoulder. 

“Are you feeling better?”

Dean nods. “It wasn’t that bad.” 

The alpha hums with agreement though she looks at him doubtfully. 

“To go back to what I was saying-”

“-Mother!” Cas calls out, slamming the apartment door behind him. “There you are.” 

Dean looks to the alpha beside him, her attention now on Castiel. Even though he’s sitting, he can feel the floor move beneath him, lurching away as Castiel heads towards them. 

_Mother_. 

“Castiel,” the alpha nods. “Your omega is in need of you.” 

_You omega_ , Dean mouths. 

Cas looks at Dean, at first careless, but his eyes widen with concern as he scents the air. Before Dean can say anything, Cas drops to his knees, placing one hand gently on his belly, the other on his chin, directing Dean’s gaze to his. 

“Are you okay?” he asks quickly, his eyes searching Dean. 

Dean’s stomach churns at the alpha’s attention, and he is filled with, at first, relief that _finally_ Cas has arrived, then with anger for how long it took the alpha to show up. The caring alpha act is almost too much and Dean squirms uncomfortably under the alpha’s stare. 

_Does Castiel’s mother know we’re not together_ , he wonders. Does he have to do this whole mating act with another group of people? Cas must know this is never going to work. 

“I’m fine,” he says. “My back just hurts. That happens when you’re walking around with essentially a watermelon tucked under your shirt. Plus, the baby surprised me by waking up right then.” 

Castiel’s thumbs gently at the curve of Dean’s belly. He smiles to himself as the baby kicks happily at their alpha father’s hand. 

“Of course, Dean,” Castiel looks at him carefully before turning to his mother. 

“I’d thought you’d agreed to wait for me.” 

“You were taking too long and we were already late.” 

Castiel opens his mouth and then shuts it, shaking his head. 

“Of course.” He glances back to Dean. 

“Castiel-” his mother says carefully. 

“Right, introductions are in order. Dean, this is my mother, Naomi Novak.”

“I got that,” Dean smiles thinly as Naomi turns glances to him. 

“Mother,” Castiel continues, “this is Dean Smith. He’s the omega-”

“-That you carelessly impregnated. Yes, we have met.” 

“Charmed,” Dean mutters under his breath.

“I’m sure,” Naomi replies coldly. “You work for Cas, I hear?”

“With” Castiel says sharply. “Mother, we’ve talked about this.” 

“Right, Sandover is some _progressive_ company that lets omegas in any department.”

Dean snorts, because he’s never heard “progressive” and _Sandover_ in the same paragraph let alone sentence before. 

Naomi frowns. 

“Cas!” Ellen calls across the room. “You’re here!” 

Naomi shuts her mouth, smiling tightly as Dean’s mom moves towards them. 

“Cas, we’ve waiting all afternoon to open presents” Ellen chides. “Bobby’s been down for a nap for an hour now. Since _you are_ the other father, I’d thought you’ve been here to set up.” 

Naomi scoffs, eying her son to see what how he’ll react. 

Castiel sighs, looking down. 

“Apologizes, we had some… hold ups at the airport,” he looks pointedly at his mother, who rolls her eyes. 

“Not my fault you didn’t get my email about my arrival time. Of course, if you had told me sooner about my grandchild’s shower, I would’ve caught an earlier flight.” 

Dean can feel his mother’s hackles rise, her arms crossed like Naomi’s her child that she just caught stealing five bucks from her purse. 

“Mom,” Dean jumps in. “Why not grab Dad and get this party started? Maybe get me some pie while you’re at it, please?”

She stares at him, before she deflates. 

“Good idea, Dean,” she nods. “Maybe Castiel’s mother would like to help me collect the guests?”

There’s no hint or suggestion in Ellen’s voice and she says it so politely that even Naomi cannot refuse. 

“Of course,” Naomi says, following Ellen. 

“That was close,” Dean laughs, as Castiel sits next to him. Cas follows his mother’s retreating figure before he looks at Dean. 

“Too close.” 

“So that’s your mother- she’s something,” Dean says weakly, nudging the alpha playfully. 

“Impossible, is what she is,” Cas mutters darkly. “I apologize if she’s done anything to upset you. I promise you, it's not personal.” 

“God, I’d hate to see what she’s like if it is.” 

A smile flickers on Castiel’s face before he coughs, pulling himself together. 

“Just tell me if she makes you uncomfortable,” he frowns. “I can deal with her.” 

“Relax, Cas,” Dean reaches out for Cas’s hand, squeezing tight. “I can handle her. Plus, you know my mom will kill her before any real damage can be done.” 

“I’d hate to see the carnage if those two fought,” Castiel deadpans. 

For a moment they sit silent, Dean’s hand still firmly on Cas’s, the alpha’s hand warm and comforting. Castiel looks down at their enclosed hands, studying it before he pulls away, clearing his throat. 

“Your mother is taking too long with the pie, I should grab you some,” Cas stands up, leaving Dean alone on the couch. 

“Right,” Dean mutters. 

-

Sam doesn’t have a lot of experiences with baby showers. None of his friends are in serious relationships or plan on having kids anytime soon, so it’s not like he’s going to one every other weekend. Despite this, he’s pretty sure most baby showers don’t involve a four way stand off between the guests of honours and their mothers. 

The rocky start with Castiel missing notwithstanding, the rest of the baby shower isn’t that bad. There’s enough finger food and fun little games (“This is so stupid,” Dean mumbles to him as they put in bets for Dean’s due date, which Sam agrees to even though he already has another pool going for the exact same thing at work). Castiel makes a quick apology to the group and Bobby, freshly woken from his nap, gives a slurred speech with statements and sentiments that probably no baby shower has heard before. After that, everyone gathers around Dean and Cas to watch the expecting parents’ open presents, a seemingly uneventful thing. 

At least that’s what Sam had expected. 

It begins fine, Dean blushing as he opens gifts, laughing as he pulls out a onesies that are linked with inside jokes from Sam and Charlie, with Castiel beside him, head bent in concentration as he writes down who gave what gift. 

With the small trinkets, toys and baby blankets unwrapped, they move on to the bigger stuff- a rocking chair Ellen’s regulars have pulled together, a change table from Jo, and a stroller from Bobby. It all falls apart when Dean unwraps the crib. 

“Oh,” Naomi says loudly as the last of the wrapping paper hits the floor. 

Castiel seems to stiffen, his attention entirely on his mother. Dean, beside him, smiles brightly and beams at his mom. 

“Mom, I told you not to. This is too much.”

“Dean, this is my first grandbaby. Nothing is too much.” 

Sam hears Naomi cough discreetly, and looks to the alpha, her lips pressed together firmly, her eyes cold. 

Dean reaches out for the next present, another huge box beautifully wrapped. 

“This is my first grandchild too,” Naomi says. 

A hush falls upon the crowd. Dean’s hands fall from the present, a clump of wrapping paper coming with him. 

“What the frack,” Charlie mutters into Sam’s ear. 

“Of course, Naomi,” Ellen says carefully, she glances puzzled at Bobby. 

“O-kay,” Dean says quietly, before reaching out to pull the rest of the wrapping paper off. It falls around him similar to the awkward hush that has occurred. 

It’s another crib. Actually, Sam’s pretty sure it’s the _exact_ crib, though he also kind of thinks all cribs look the same, so he could be wrong. 

“Naomi,” Dean says slowly. “Uh, thank you.” 

“Dean-” Castiel starts, shaking his head. 

Jo nudges Sam. 

“She’s gonna blow,” she whispers gleefully. “Five bucks that Mom kicks her ass.” 

Sam discreetly shakes on it. 

“If I’d known,” Naomi continues, her voice continuously rising. “If I had known that my first and probably _only_ grandchild would be in this _situation_.” She shakes her head. “Castiel, how could you’ve have let this happen?” 

Ellen jumps up, her mouth equally tight and she crosses her arms in the same manner as she’s about to kick out a rowdy drunk from her bar. 

Bobby hurries between the two alpha women. 

“Now, it’s just a crib. Heck, we need two of them anyways.” 

The room goes so quiet so quickly that Sam thinks for a moment he might have accidentally blown out an ear drum or two. Ellen sighs heavily and shoots Bobby a look that probably could’ve killed the beta man if he wasn’t pointedly looking away. 

Naomi’s face turns bright red. 

“This is wrong!” she yells out. “Castiel, you should be happily mated, not waiting for some omega to share _your_ child with you. Absolutely disgraceful. My grandchild shouldn’t have to _two cribs_.” 

“Mother,” Castiel says firmly.

“No, Castiel, I told you. You should’ve mated this omega the first moment he told you he was pregnant or filed for full custody. Being shuffled from parent to parent, having your own child on certain weekends, disgraceful.” 

She turns to Dean, who is trying to make himself as small as possible on the couch, his eyes darting between the two alphas. 

“And you. How could you do this? How could you spend _months_ ignoring Castiel, keeping his child away from him? What kind of omega does that.” 

Sam can see Dean flinch at each word Naomi throws at him and he feels disgust as Cas stand helplessly besides him. 

“You leave my son alone,” Ellen snaps. “You think you can come in here and shame my son about his decisions-”

“The only who can do that is Mom,” Jo mutters, smirking. 

“How dare you put this on my son,” Ellen continues, either ignoring or not hearing Jo, “after what _your_ son did.”

“And what did my son do?” Naomi demands, her voice strangled. 

“He took advantage of Dean!” Ellen snaps. “An omega in heat, desperate-”

“-I did no such thing,” Castiel jumps in. “Dean was perfectly capable of-”

“Okay, that’s enough, Mom,” Dean eases himself off the couch. “Christ, that’s enough all of you.” 

“Oh, this is going to be good,” Charlie mutters to Sam and Jo. “He’s going to kick their ass.” 

Dean glares at all the alphas surrounding him, daring them to interrupt. 

“I’m so tired of this,” he looks at Castiel and then Ellen. “This talking for me, this deciding for me. Fuck, I’m a grown ass adult. I might be _pregnant_ , but I’m still a functioning human being, contrary to whatever narrative you picked up from the outdated house-omega magazine you all seem to subscribe to. Mom, Castiel and I had hot consensual hate sex, which is where this little bun in the oven came from.” Dean pats his belly, smiling down at it before continuing. “I didn’t know I was in heat, I just wanted to shut his stupid face up and the only I could do it was by sitting on it.”

“Dean,” Ellen rolls her eyes. “Christ, we have guests.” 

“Mrs. Novak, I apologize if this situation is too weird for you, though lots of people raise children separately or by themselves so this isn’t the goddamn tragedy you’re making it out to be. Your son and I weren’t together before this happened, we weren’t anything before this happened, and I understand that this is sort of shitty situation from the grandparent perspective, but also I kind of hated your son, and he sure as fuck hates me, and now I’m having his kid, so maybe you just need to get over it. This kid is going to have two sets of grandparents who love them and two parents too, which is a lot, believe me. I didn’t take advantage of your son, but I’m also not going mate my work enemy just so you can tell your friends at the country club, or whatever weird ass place you like to throw your money away at, that your son has the perfect little life.”

Dean’s shoulders drop and he begins to droop. Castiel reaches out to hold him. 

“Not you too,” Dean steps back. “Christ, all of you want to make decisions for me, want to take the little bit of control I have in this fucked up situation away. I have made my decisions, they weren’t always good. Fuck, most of the time they were really stupid and bad. I do not need some alpha talking for me. Just like I don’t need some beta calling my parents or Cas and telling them stuff I told them in confidence.” Dean shoots Sam a look, making the beta turn red. 

“I’m sorry, Dean,” Sam stammers. “I thought I was helping.”

“I get that, Sam,” Dean shakes his head. “But let’s stop the whole making my life decisions for me. All of you.” 

At that, Dean hurries out of the room, slamming a bedroom door closed. Charlie looks to Sam timidly. 

“Harry, Ron, and Hermione, I did not expect that to happen.”

“This is the best baby shower I’ve ever been to,” Jo says gleefully beside him.

-

The guest bedroom is almost empty, slowly cleared out to prepare for the onslaught of baby crap that Dean had been expecting. There’s still the bed though, but Dean ignores it for the floor where he curls up, leaning against a blank wall. 

He’s not sure how long he stays there for. He can’t hear much outside the room, though the apartment door opens and shuts repeatedly as he suspects guest leave. 

Well, that was embarrassing. 

He’s still fuming, his heart pumping loudly into his ears and he takes shaky breaths. 

God, why did he have to make a scene like that? 

Maybe he drifts off to sleep, because he wakes with the door clicking shut and padded footsteps headed quietly towards him. 

He smells Castiel first, all worried and protective alpha and if that doesn’t make him feel pathetic. 

“Dean,” Cas says quietly. 

Dean blinks at him, his eyelids heavy with the need for sleep. 

“This is so stupid,” he says, wiping his nose on his sleeve. “I shouldn’t have said anything.” 

Cas’s fingertips press gently to his back and he leans desperately into the touch. All warmth, all comfort. He hears the alpha slid down, pressing himself lightly to Dean. 

“Is this okay?” Castiel asks, his fingers combing through Dean’s hair. 

“Yeah,” Dean hums, “I like that.” 

They stay like that for a while, or, at least, it feels like a while. Castiel humming forgetfully as he draws Dean into him. Dean finally breaks contact, sitting up. 

“I’m sorry,” he starts, but the alpha shakes his head. 

“No, Dean. You shouldn’t be. We’re the ones who need to be sorry. I didn’t realize just how- how bad I’ve been treating you.”

“You’ve been treating me fine,” Dean scoffs. “I’ve been the total ass here.”

“Maybe,” Cas concedes, his smile quiet and small as he glances to Dean. “I shouldn’t have spoken for you, at this and several other occasions. Dean, what you said earlier, I… I don’t hate you.” 

“Sure,” Dean mumbles. “Easy to say that now.”

“No,” Castiel shakes his head. “I never did. I found you incredibly frustrating, impossibly stubborn, but I never hated you.” 

“You really know how to sweet talk a guy, Cas.”

“You are incredibly stubborn and frustrating,” Castiel points out. “The first week I worked at Sandover you refused to talk to me and stole three of my potential clients.”

“That’s just hazing,” Dean smirks. “I do that to all the new guys.” 

“Of course,” Cas smiles. 

Dean frowns. “Still, it sounded pretty clear that you hated me when you called me an omega whore and your little bitch.” 

Castiel frowns. “That was inexcusable. I was hurt and defensive, but I shouldn’t have lashed out on you like that. I should've begged for your forgiveness as soon as I said it.” 

“And I still haven’t heard it,” Dean says, partly in jest.

“I’m sorry,” Castiel says firmly. “And I don’t expect your forgiveness.” 

Dean pauses, thinking. 

“You get it though,” he finally says. 

Castiel looks away. 

“So… I’m guessing everyone is gone?” Dean asks weakly. 

“My mother is still here, though she’s gone out for a smoke break under the pretence of needing some air. Charlie and Sam have stayed to help clean up.”

“I’d should probably go help-” Dean moves to get up, but Castiel reaches out and pulls him back. 

“No need, it’s your party-”

“And what, I can cry if I want to?” Dean laughs. "Done."

“Your parents made me promise on pain of death not to let you tidy up. I’m here to distract you.” 

“Ah, a turncoat I see,” Dean grins, though he doesn’t mind Cas staying, doesn’t mind being curled up next to him. 

“If it means you don’t stress yourself out.” 

Somehow Cas’s hand finds itself around’s Dean waist, again gently rubbing circles around his swollen belly. Dean places his hand on top of Cas’s, humming contently as the baby moves and adjusts within him. Castiel’s breath slows and his scent washes over the omega, making Dean’s eyes droop. He stares at Cas’s lips, wanting to draw himself nearer to the alpha, let himself be wrapped up entirely by him. Cas licks his lips eagerly and they both draw their heads closer to each other, Dean steadying himself as he leans into Cas, eyes half closed.

The door slams open and in tumbles Jo and Charlie. 

Dean jumps and swiftly (as he can) pushes himself away as he watches his sister and one of his best friends make out. 

“Jo!” Dean yells when neither girls notices him. “Charlie, really, my sister?” 

At this, Charlie pulls herself from Jo, coming up red-faced and breathless. 

“Shit,” she mumbles. 

“Jesus Christ, Dean, cock block much?” Jo snaps, her hand still cupped on Charlie’s breast. 

“Why this room?” Dean pleads, though he can feel Castiel shake with laughter beside him. 

“I thought you were hiding out in your room,” Jo shrugs. 

Charlie’s eyes widen as she looks at Dean and Castiel, at how it looks with them sitting so close, Castiel’s hand still on Dean’s belly, now looking flustered and slightly pissed. 

“Jo,” she says lowly. 

“Fine, we’ll fuck in Dean’s room,” Jo rolls her eyes. 

“No, no,” Dean shakes his head. “We’re leaving. Cas, help me up.” 

Castiel quickly gets Dean up and hurries out of the room. Dean moves slowly, his joints stiff from sitting, his gait slowed by the baby in his belly. He can practically see Jo fuming as he exits his own damn guest room. 

“Use protection, you two,” he calls, just as he shuts the door. 


	13. Chapter 13

Finally Dean is alone.

It takes about two hours for the apartment to be cleared entirely of people. Naomi is long gone when Dean finally leaves the guest room. Cas offers to help clean up, but after several frantic texts from his mother, he politely leaves, apologizing with the promise to come by later to help with the rest of the baby stuff. Sam leaves shortly after, acting all kinds of dodgy, but Dean’s too tired to bug him and lets the beta go, mentally promising to tease him about Sarah later. 

His parents leave too, telling him they’ll grab a hotel room for the rest of their visit. The two main reasons for this appear shortly after, _finally_ leaving Dean’s guest room, red-faced and sweaty with Jo telling him she won’t be back for the night. 

Once Jo and Charlie leaves and the apartment is deemed clean enough for Dean’s standards, he collapses onto his couch, exhausted and sore. Kicking up his feet, he can feel the stress and the general aftermath of the shit storm that was the party leave his body and he passes out before eight. 

It’s almost seven when his phone rings. Far too early for Dean. 

Groggily he sits up, groaning as his back aches and the muscles pull as he reaches for his phone. 

“Dean, this is Naomi,” the stern alpha voice tells him.

“Of course,” he mutters. It’s tempting to end the call, but the alpha’s voice grows frantic, like she can sense what Dean’s about to do. 

“I want to talk,” Naomi says quickly. “To apologize. I have a flight to catch, but I want to meet up. I’ll be at your apartment in an hour.” 

“Will you?” Dean asks stiffly, ‘cause it’s one thing to be woken up first thing in the morning, it’s another to be bossed around by some lady who sort of implied he was a money stealing whore at his own baby shower. 

“If you want,” Naomi amends. “Breakfast is also part of this deal.” 

“Sure, why not,” he says. 

“Good,” Naomi says in what Dean could almost believe is a delighted tone. “An hour, Dean.” 

 

Sure enough, as soon as the clock strikes eight, he hears a knock on the door and Naomi enters dressed in another pressed suit and looking like she’s been up for hours, which Dean sort of suspects she has. She certainly has more energy than Dean, who, despite a nice long shower and ample time to ready himself, still feels like crawling into bed for the rest of the day. 

“Come now,” Naomi says, barely through the door. “We have a reservation.” 

Dean was thinking Naomi would take him to a coffee shop or a diner, something quick or something greasy, but cab pulls up to what looks like a high end sort of place and Dean starts to feel underdressed in his jeans. Naomi doesn’t seem to register his discomfort as she swiftly pays the driver and hurries in, leaving Dean to trail meekly behind her. 

After they order Dean tries to start up a conversation, but Naomi is either too focused on her phone or flagging down a waiter to complain about her coffee that Dean decides to drop that tactic. It isn’t until their meal arrives and Dean is digging into his (delicious) food that Naomi puts down her phone and turns to Dean, discreetly coughing as places a napkin in her lap. 

“Dean.”

Dean looks up at her, his face stuffed with food, and quickly swallows. 

“Mrs. Novak.” 

“Naomi.”

“Naomi,” Dean corrects. 

“Dean, I brought you here to apologize for my behaviour yesterday. The way I behaved, the way I treated you, was entirely uncalled for. I was surprised… mostly… and uncertain. Understandable given the present circumstances.” 

“Which are?” Dean asks. 

Naomi’s gaze shifts to his stomach. 

“Obvious,” she blinks, looking back at him. 

Dean feels his face burn and he ducks his head, focusing on the plate before him. 

“Look, like I said, I’m not trying to trap Castiel or anything-”

Naomi raises her hand, stopping him. 

“I understand that. I jumped to a conclusion that I shouldn’t have. You have to understand from perspective my concern with the situation. Cas has always been…. different. My oldest, Gabriel, has always been interested in a mate, always bringing home girls for Chuck and I to meet. Always _flaunting_ his latest companion. Gabriel has always been a great deal of trouble for me. Castiel was not like that. I know he’s had relationships, but they were never anything _serious_. Always betas, always for a laugh. Gabriel is happily mated now, has been for a long time, but I have long given up on Castiel finding an actual mate. You understand my surprise when he called me and told me about his impending fatherhood.” 

The corner’s of Naomi’s eyes crinkle and she looks away fondly, lost in the thought of her children.

“I always want what’s best for him,” she says slowly. “I’m his mother. Forgive me if that makes me protective of him. You’ll understand when that one arrives.” She nods at his belly. “Like I said, he’s never shown interest in this stuff before.” 

“This stuff,” Dean repeats incredulously. 

Naomi looks to him. 

“I apologize for misreading the situation. For making a scene. That was embarrassing for all of us.” 

The waiter sets the bill down and Naomi grabs it, barely glancing at it as she passes over her card. 

“He must really be fond of you,” she says quietly, so quietly that Dean’s not even sure if he heard her correctly. He blinks at the waiter, who stands politely beside them, waiting for Naomi to hand back the machine. Dean looks to Naomi again, who looks sort of flushed, her head bent in concentration, like she’s purposely avoiding Dean’s gaze. 

As soon as the receipt is handed back, she gets up, chair scrapping against the hardwood as she thanks Dean for the company. Dean stumbles after her, half-panting when she finally stops at the curb, waiting for a cab to pull up. 

“Uh, thanks for breakfast,” Dean tells her dumbly, his mind still mostly at the table they just left. 

She nods. 

“Thank you for the grandchild,” she says quietly. 

A taxi pulls up before Dean can reply and Naomi jumps in it. As it pulls away she sticks her head out the window and tells him she can’t wait to meet her grandbaby and to take care, leaving Dean alone on the curb. 

Dean’s mind is spinning as a hostess shuffles him off to the next cab and he barely registers that he’s at his building (that he’s in his apartment) when it hits him. 

Cas just might like him. 

-

Castiel sits on the cold wooden floor, piles of wood beside him and the instructions for what appears to be a crib, though, as he keeps glancing from the paper before him and the wooden pieces, he’s not really sure how that’s going to happen. 

“Dude, you can’t just stare it into existence,” Dean says as he presses a glass of water to his arm. 

Castiel takes the glass, frowning. “It would be easier.” 

Dean laughs, grabbing the instructions from him. 

“It’s not that hard,” he says, though his smirk falls when he looks at the paper and a frown replaces it. 

“Have you figured it out yet?” Castiel deadpans, reaching for a screwdriver. 

Dean rolls his eyes, but hands the paper over. 

“Yeah, of course, but I’m not the one making it,” he tells Castiel slyly as he eases himself on the newly built rocking chair. There’s a swell of pride when it doesn’t totally fall to pieces as the omega sits in it. Dean happily sighs as he tips the chair back, patting the armrest as he begins to rock gently. 

Castiel’s hands have never been put to such use before, always content on typing on keyboards or with a pen in hand, and it stirs something _alpha_ in him to build a rocking chair- to build an entire nursery- for his omega. 

_Not your omega_ , he reminds himself quickly, shaking his head. 

“What are you doing?” Dean looks at him curiously, an amused smile flits across his face. 

“Just admiring my handiwork,” Castiel says truthfully. “You make quite the model.” 

Dean barks out a laugh. “Some model. Oh I bet I look real good like this.” 

Dean’s hands move over his belly. Again, Castiel feels something feral move in him. 

“You do.” 

“Just get back to the crib, buddy,” Dean warns him, though the corner of Dean’s mouth lifts, amused, and Castiel can hear a hint of fondness in the omega’s voice. 

Castiel turns back to the instructions, still puzzled on how he’s supposed to start. 

“Don’t worry, if you fuck up this one, there’s another one you can perfect.” Dean nods to the box in the corner. “I get the second attempt, though.” 

Castiel looks at the other crib, his stomach lurching with dread. That crib was supposed to go home with him, though he had ignored Bobby’s requests to help move it before the Smiths left, and had waved away Dean’s suggestions of taking it, forgetting it the last few weeks he’s been here clearing out and setting up the nursery. 

“Of course, Dean,” Castiel says, his hand gripping tight to the instructions. 

Dean watches him work, the gently creaking of the chair a steady rhythm as Castiel pieces together a crib. It doesn’t feel like long, but Dean gets up, his bones cracking as he stretches, and carefully steps over the wooden pieces. 

“I’m making us something to eat,” he announces, pausing to look at Castiel’s handiwork. 

Castiel opens his mouth to protest, but Dean beats him to it, shaking a finger at him. “No, I can hear your stomach growling at me and it keeps saying “feed me” so I gotta shut it up.” 

His stomach betrays him (apparently again), grumbling loudly like an oncoming thunderstorm and Castiel ducks his head and agrees to a meal, watching fondly as the omega proudly walks (though it is much more a waddle now) out. 

Castiel sits back, stretching out, and surveys the room. There’s not a part of it he doesn’t know, all secrets gone when he emptied and painted the room, though he’s not sure just when he got so comfortable in it- or so comfortable in Dean’s apartment. He remembers the feeling of trespassing two weeks ago, the first night Dean had invited him over. He remembers his stomach twisting and his body tense when Dean left the room, his fingers fumbling as he dismantled the bed.Though in the week painting it (twice when Dean decided he didn’t like the colour) Castiel had learned to let himself in, had let himself get comfortable with the empty apartment (Dean staying with Sam or Charlie to be away from the fumes), so much so that feel of the apartment key in his pocket pressing into his thigh no longer bothers him and he can sit in comfortable silence, humming quietly as he builds a crib for his child.

So comfortable, he supposes, that he doesn’t even notice the presence of someone in the room, nor the feeling of someone watching him until he reaches for his run away screwdriver, finding Dean smiling fondly at him, though the smile quickly disappears when they make eye contact. 

“Foods ready,” Dean says gruffly, looking pointedly away. “Probably should eat.” 

“Right,” Castiel says, focusing carefully on the tools he's tucking away.

He must have been on the floor for a long time as his body creaks and protests as he gets up. Another sign of how long it has been appears when Castiel catches sight of the table with a warm meal laid out on it so welcoming and needed. His mouth waters at the sight of it. 

“This looks amazing,” he blurts out, watching the omega fill up his plate. 

“Oh yeah?” Dean asks, as if he’s daring Castiel to say otherwise. 

“Of course,” the alpha assures him, looking eagerly at the food. 

“I mean, it’s nothing special, not like what my mom makes anyways,” the omega rubs his neck, handed Castiel his plate. “It should do,” he adds, humbly. 

“Should do” is a understatement. Everything is cooked perfectly, fresh and warm, and Castiel can almost taste the passion that went into it. He eats like it is his last supper, tearing into his plate as soon as Dean sits down. 

“Slow down,” Dean teases, making the alpha blush. Castiel pushes his plate away gently, pausing before he reaches for the water before him. 

“I apologize. I didn’t realize what an appetite one could build from making furniture.” He frowns at his food. “I suppose I was a little hungry.” 

Dean’s laugh echoes throughout the room, loud and booming, and the flush of embarrassment Castiel is feeling disappears. 

“Yeah, I told you. I’m the stomach whisperer and I heard you loud and clear.” 

Again Castiel’s face flushes and he looks to his meal, making sure to take slow deliberate mouthfuls. He doesn’t look up until he finishes, the rest of the meal silent, but when he does he sees Dean staring at him, though the omega looks quickly away, focusing on his untouched plate. 

“Are you okay?” 

“I’m not that hungry,” Dean admits, dropping his fork. Shifting his chair, the omega stands up. “Just uncomfortable, I guess.” 

Castiel moves to help the omega, but Dean waves him away. 

“Don’t bother. I gotta stand or something.” 

Castiel helps Dean gather the plates before insisting that he’ll wash them. Dean protests, but Castiel remains firm, nudging the omega away from the sink. 

As he washes, he watches Dean from the corner of his eye. The omega paces the room, his belly jutting out further as he rubs his back. Castiel’s mouth waters again, though he knows it’s not caused by the food this time.

Dean pauses from his pacing, his hand sweeping over his belly and smiles fondly down at the baby bump. Castiel stomach lurches. 

“Tell me about Sandover?” Dean calls out. “What’s happening there.” 

Castiel picks up a dish, smiling. It’s been a week since Dean has started working from home, the unofficial beginning of his leave and already it seems that the omega has grown antsy from being away from the office in that time. 

“We’ve completely redid our floor,” Castiel teases. “Got rid of your office. Zachariah has declared me ‘King of Sales’ and finally allowed me to convert Sandover to a monarchy.” 

“Asshole,” Dean says. “Zachariah would never praise you.” 

Dean has a point. 

“Everything is fine,” he tells the omega. “It hasn’t fallen apart since you left.” 

Dean shrugs. “Might have.”

“You are missed,” Castiel assures him. “I certainly feel lost without you constantly undermining me.” 

The omega shifts uncomfortably, looking at the floor. Dean looks up again, opens his mouth, then shakes his head, frowning. 

“Do you have something you want to say?” Castiel prompts. “A pointed jab about my incompetence? Worry about how I will single-handedly bring down Sandover while you’re on leave?” 

“Christ, Cas,” Dean says softy. 

“Dean, I was just joking.” 

Castiel steps towards Dean, his hands aching to touch, to draw the omega near him, though he stops himself, his arms hanging awkwardly at his sides. 

“Dean,” he repeats softly. “I really was teasing.” 

The omega scoffs, shaking his head. 

“Nah, I’m just grouchy. My back hurts, don’t feel like eating. I’m just in crappy mood. I don’t know. I’m trying to figure some stuff out, I guess. Shouldn’t take it out on you.” 

“Okay,” Castiel says slowly, watching Dean carefully. The omega refuses to make eye contact with him and Castiel sighs. “I should finish the crib.” 

 

For the rest of the night Castiel works in silence. He works steadily on, determined to finish the crib before he leaves. By the time it's built, he can feel his body sag and his eyes blur. He nearly drifts off when Dean walks in, his scent filling the room- filling Castiel’s nose till his eyes shut again with contentment. 

“This is awesome,” Dean says quietly, his hands moving over the smooth wood of the crib, now tucked neatly into place. The omega hands move into the crib, thumbing a knitted blanket (courtesy of Charlie) that Castiel has placed neatly in it. 

“Where did this come from?” Dean frowns, holding up a giant fuzzy bee. 

Castiel remembers impulse buying it shortly after Sam had told him about Dean and the baby. His mind was still running circles, still dizzy with the news, panic rising within him as a steady wave when he spotted the bee in a store. He still recalls all the confusion and doubt he felt waiting in line, how it mixed with excitement as he watched the cashier ring it up, his thoughts completely elsewhere. She had asked if the stuffed bee was for his “kid”, in a tone that said she wasn’t really interested in an answer, but Castiel’s chest had inflated with alpha pride and he had told her yes, it was for his child.

Castiel reaches for the bee, his face now burning at that memory. 

“Oh, that’s something I got for the baby,” he mumbles quickly. “I thought they might enjoy it.” 

Dean pulls it back, clutching the bee to him. 

“That’s… that’s really sweet,” he says, smiling brightly as he looks at the bee. “I’m sure the baby will love it.” 

Dean carefully tucks the bee back into the crib before he turns to Castiel. 

“Cas, I wanted to talk to you.” Again, Dean stops himself, shaking his head. “Forget it. It’s been a long night. You need to get some sleep.” 

Castiel agrees, a yawn escaping from him as he exits the apartment. His eyes threaten to close on him as he drives home, his body yearning for his bed. 

But when he falls into bed, his mind begins to race, to wonder about what Dean wanted to say. He half hopes it was something about him moving in with the omega, though that thought is replaced with another that fills him with cold dread. Maybe Dean wants him gone and out of his life, out of their child’s life. He cycles back between those two thoughts, analyzing how Dean acted before Castiel left, remembering how awful they were to each other before that weekend. Looping through his thoughts is the horrible things he said to Dean when he found him in his bed, how much Dean had pushed him away. He remembers too how Dean had felt pressed to his side, how Dean looked when the alpha saw their child on that tiny screen for the first time, how content Dean has seemed in the last few weeks, how he's changed since his family left, taking Jo with them and leaving an empty apartment, leaving them to be alone together, uncomplicated by the familial pressure to know. 

Castiel also flashes back to the baby shower, how Dean leaned into him, how close they were. He was sure Dean was going to kiss him, sure that things had changed. 

Castiel exhausts himself and lets these thoughts drifts away, all the bad ones leaving first, allowing the good ones to follow until he’s left with the image of Dean holding that plush bee. He smiles as he closes his eyes and lets sleep take him. 

 

A phone is ringing. 

It seems to echo across his bedroom, blaring in his ears as he stumbles for it. The screen tells him it’s just past midnight, though he doesn’t register the name of whose calling before he answers it, pressing the phone to his ear. 

“Cas?” Dean’s voice comes through tinny and distant, though there’s an urgency there that Castiel can hear even his sleepy state. “Cas?” 

“Dean?” Castiel sits up, now suddenly feeling very much awake. “Are you okay?”

“Cas, I think my water broke.” 

 


	14. Chapter 14

From the late night TV shows and in-flight movies that he’s seen, Castiel has largely gathered that child birth is a quick- though not easy- process, one where he’d arrive at Dean's apartment to find it in a mess and the omega moaning and panicking before they rush to the hospital. There’s quick cuts and jump scenes involved- maybe even a montage of an omega screaming- and in no time there's a baby. 

TV has lied to him. 

Instead, Castiel finds Dean washing dishes when he arrives. 

Half panting, he slumps against the door, and lets out a shaky laugh. 

Dean looks at him confused, unaware that the alpha had  _literally_ ran out of his apartment when he got the call. Castiel looks down and sees that he's not even wearing the same pair of  _shoes_ and he's certain the concern look Dean is giving him is because he must look like a madman as half-dressed and haggard as he is. 

“Dean,” Castiel says, gently shutting the door behind him. 

“Hey Cas,” Dean nods, frowning as he reaches for a dish towel. There’s a damp spot from the sink beside his protruding belly button. Castiel smiles when he sees it. 

“I need to get the dishes done before we go. I mean, we still have a bit... like the contractions aren’t really that close yet. Already called the doctor and she said I should get some sleep before they get worse, but, uh, I didn’t want to wake up and bam! the baby’s coming and we’d have to leave right away and this place is still a mess and crap.”

Dean motions to the rest of the apartment, which is spotless, just as Castiel had left it. Dean turns back to the sink. 

Castiel blinks at the omega. 

“Maybe I imagined this, but did you not just call me and tell me your water _broke_?” 

“Oh yeah,” Dean waves vaguely to the bathroom. “Actually would you mind doing me a favour and grab the mop. Maybe wipe down the bathroom for me? It’s not a horror show or anything. Just gotta wipe it down real quick.” 

Castiel nods, because clearly Dean has lost his mind. Surely if Dean is in labour they should be _going_ somewhere? Like a hospital. 

Dean grimaces and grips the sinks, his knuckles white, his face red and his eyes squeeze shut. 

Castiel is beside the omega before Dean can even open his eyes. 

“Are you okay?”

“Peachy,” Dean grunts. 

It takes a bit before he releases his grip on the sink, before he looks up at Castiel and smiles tightly.

“I hope you don’t mind waiting around. I just…” Dean drops his head, his fingers wind tightly around the dish cloth. 

“I’m glad you called me. I’m happy to be here,” Castiel smiles, reaching for Dean’s hand. “The mop?” 

“Right,” Dean nods, though he squeezes back and Castiel would do anything for them not to part. 

Instead, he cleans the bathroom. 

 

It’s around two when Dean finally takes his doctor’s advice to get some sleep. All the dishes are done and the apartment is now beyond spotless, so much so, that Castiel fears where he treads in case Dean sees anything out of place. He tip-toes out of the bedroom after he helps Dean into bed, taking a second glance as he closes the door to make sure the omega is truly asleep. 

Before he heads back to the couch where Dean has made up a bed of sorts, Castiel stop into the nursery. In the few hours since Castiel has been in here, Dean has managed to pull the room together so that it really does look like a nursery, all inviting and cozy, everything put in it's place. He thumbs the folded onesies Dean has placed on the change table, imagining Dean in this room, soothing a fussy baby, rocking gently back and forth. 

 

Castiel tries to sleep, but, again, his mind keeps racing with thoughts. Thoughts of Dean, thoughts of the baby that is almost here. It seems like a lifetime has passed since that hotel bedroom, hell, since last evening. He’s not sure how Dean can sleep.

Just as Castiel drifts off, the bright light from the oven saying it's almost three, he hears Dean’s door open. He shuts his eyes, only opening one when he hears the shuffling steps of Dean move past him. The room glows for a second before the fridge door shuts and Castiel’s senses are clouded with the scent of anxiety, worry, and of that an omega in labour. 

“Do you want some water?” Dean announces. Castiel lifts his head up. “Dude, I can smell you from here.” 

Castiel sheepishly leaves the couch, nodding, and takes the jug from Dean. Dean leans against the counter, watching him as he pours himself a glass. Just as he sets the jug back into the fridge, he hears a sharp hiss and the slam of glass against the counter. The omega is bent over, head pressed to the granite, his back heaving as he takes a shaky breath. 

“Getting closer together?” Castiel asks carefully, because he doesn’t know what else to do. 

Dean lets out another shaky breath. “And tenser.”

“Should we head out?” 

Dean shakes his head, before he straightens up. “Nah,” he says. His hand skirts his belly. “Still pretty far apart, all things considered. Should probably get some sleep…” 

Castiel wants to reach out and gather Dean near him, pull him close until they both can say out loud that everything is going to be okay. Dean’s shaking beside him though, his fingers tapping distractedly on the glass and his eyes dart nervously. Castiel lightly brushes his arm, his fingers ghosting the omega’s sleeve. 

“I think that would be best,” he finally says. Dean nods and heads back to bed. 

Knowing Dean’s terrified too makes it easier for Castiel to sleep somehow. Knowing they both feel the same way, that Dean isn’t being abnormally calm about this whole _ordeal_ means Cas can go in protective mode, his inner alpha telling him the best way to help out his family is to be well rested and alert. All nerves, all fears, seep out of him as he falls back on the couch and he again drifts off, not easily, but willingly. 

 

The apartment is bright when Castiel wakes, his body tense before he realizes where he is. His back aches from the couch and he looks at it spitefully before he hears a low moan and then his name. 

He finds Dean sitting on the edge of his bed, the covers kicked off and his arms wrapped tightly around his belly. 

“Cas,” Dean breathes out weakly, his face red and splotchy. 

Castiel kneels beside the omega, letting Dean squeeze his hand tight. 

“Bad, huh?” he says lowly, his free hand carefully combing back the sweat-soaked hair sticking to Dean’s forehead. 

Dean’s eyes are still shut and he only nods. 

“Dean.”

“Yes,” the omega says so quietly, Castiel has to lean in to hear it. 

“Can you get up?” 

Dean is so curled into himself that Castiel fears that the answer is no. He sucks in breath, waiting for the omega’s reply. It takes a second before Dean nods weakly. 

“I think so?" 

“Do you want me to grab your shoes? I can put them on for you.” 

Castiel expects Dean to tell him to fuck off. Instead, the omega draws another shaky breath. 

“Knock yourself out,” Dean laughs humourlessly. 

It takes far longer than Castiel would like to get Dean dressed, up, and out of the apartment. The omega argues that he  _needs_ to have proper pants on while  Castiel insists the hospital doesn’t care if he’s in his PJs. Dean wins, of course, and Castiel hurriedly dresses Dean, gently tugging off the flannel for a new pair of sweatpants.

The drive over is equally slow, though Castiel knows this is due to fear rather than the actual movement of time. Dean’s hand finds itself on his thigh, pressing tight and Castiel keeps murmuring words of comfort, waiting for the omega to tell him to shut up.

Dean never does though. Castiel wishes someone else was driving, that someone else could take over so that his attention could be on Dean solely. 

The contractions don’t seem any closer though and Dean insists on getting out of the car by himself, so they arrive without much drama, Castiel dutifully following after Dean to labour and delivery. 

Again, more waiting. This time for a room, which absurd, since this is a hospital and shouldn’t a room be _ready_. The wait feels endless and Castiel has to fight the urge to snap at the nurses, to make something happen, to get _his_ omega a room. The nurses look at him sourly as his scent stinks up the room, but Castiel just glowers. Dean remains stone-faced and silent beside him, only small whimpers and gasps of pain escaping when a contraction takes him by surprise. He doesn’t ask for Castiel’s hand, but Castiel offers his willingly and lets the omega anchoring himself to him. 

Finally a nurse comes to collect them. She smiles warmly as she hands Dean a gown, but frowns when Castiel moves to follow him into the room. 

“We need to get him ready before you can go in,” she tells him before she follows Dean in, leaving Castiel alone in a hallway, unsure if he’s supposed to wait outside or go back to the waiting room where other abandoned fathers have been shuffled off to. 

He chooses to wait outside the room, listening at the door at the low murmurs from the nurses and the grunted short replies coming from Dean. He paces, hoping to catch a glimpse, waiting for the door to open. Time moves differently here and, again, it feels like hours (though his watch tells him it has been minutes) pass before the nurse who kept him out pops her head out the door, smiling welcomely as she tells him to come in.

Dean is tucked into the bed, his shirt pushed up to reveal a string of wires strapped to his belly. There’s a look of relief when Castiel enters the room and he stretches his hand out for the alpha to take. 

“Are you okay?” Castiel asks quietly, sweeping hair off of Dean’s forehead. The omega nods, though he still looks so solemn Castiel sort of doubts Dean's response. 

Tessa, Dean’s doctor, enters the room. She’s dark-haired, talks in a soothing steady voice, and gives Castiel a small fleeting smile as she confirms with Dean how far apart his contractions are.  Dean seems at ease with her, complying readily when she asks for him to hike his feet up so that she can check how far along he is. 

“Coming along nicely, Dean,” she smiles, rolling off her gloves. “Five centimetres, contractions four minutes apart. You’re doing really well.” 

Dean nods, though he looks like he doubts it. Castiel grasps his hand, holding tight. 

“So what do we do now?” Castiel asks. 

“We wait. We can start on pain medication or an epidural if Dean likes-” Tessa looks to Dean. 

“No,” Dean shakes his head. “None of that.” 

Castiel frowns and begins to protest, but Tessa just smiles and pats Dean’s leg. 

“Whatever you want. What I want is for you to lie here and relax. Maybe we’ll get you up and walking for a bit, depending on how fast you move to transitional labour. Just relax,” she reminds him again, “and don’t hesitate to ask for anything.”

“I’d would kill for a beer,” Dean jokes. 

“Anything but that,” Tessa laughs. “I’ll get someone to bring you some water or ice chips.” 

With that, Tessa leaves and it’s just the two of them in the room with only the steady beep of the machines to break the silence. 

“Should I call your parents?” Castiel finally asks. 

Dean frowns. “I guess.” 

“You don’t want to call them?” 

“I…” Dean rubs his face. “It’s just going to be this whole thing… but if I don’t, I’ll never hear the end of it.” 

Castiel pulls out his phone. 

“It’s still fairly early over there. We can wait for a decent time to call.”

That seems to please the omega. Dean stares at the monitor intently before he slouches into his pillow. Castiel sits silently beside him, his fingers tapping a beat as he waits for Dean, for something.

Dean drifts off, though his contractions are closer together and stronger now. Tessa had checked after two hours and told them Dean's moved to six centimetres, which means everything is "coming along nicely". Castiel is envious of that Dean can sleep now, the alpha's heartbeat had jumped when the doctor announced how far Dean had dilated and it still pounds loudly when he slips out of the room, his head fuzzy as he tries to type out a text for his mother and for Sam. 

The frantic buzzing of his phone brings Castiel back to the room and he looks down to see that Sam is calling.

“Dude!” Sam bellows tinny and distance, making Castiel pull the phone away from his ear. “Is this why you aren’t at work?” 

“Yes, Sam,” Castiel says, rolling his eyes, though a smile slips on his face to hear how eager the beta sounds. 

“I knew it,” Charlie calls out. “I told you it would happen today. The pool is mine.” 

“Cas,” Sam says on top of her. “Tell Dean to wait two more days. I need to beat Charlie!”

“Too late, Wesson, all that money is mine! Cas, tell Dean to hurry up and have that baby.” 

“I told both of you to stop placing bets on my child,” Castiel admonishes quietly. “And I will in no way _tell_ Dean anything. You are welcomed to come and ask Dean to speed up his labour though.” 

Both Charlie and Sam say no to that suggestion. 

“How’s he doing?” Sam asks. 

“He seems fine, just sleeping now. He’s uncomfortable, but it’s not too painful yet. At least that’s what he says.” 

“Tell him we’re thinking of him,” Charlie says and Castiel agrees to as he hangs up. He glances one last time at his phone before tucking it back into his pocket, noting that a response from his mother is absent. 

 

At seven centimetres everything comes to a stop. This is despite Tessa telling them repeatedly that seven centimetres would mean transitional labour. It takes hours just to get to seven, the room filling and emptying of people dressed scrubs, hastily introducing themselves and checking stats and asking Dean how he’s doing, then pokes and prods at him before leaving. 

“If another person asks me that, I’m gonna stab them,” he huffs after the last nurse exits. Castiel nods and tries to get Dean to eat or drink something, but the omega refuses, his attention now on a contraction that twists his face and makes him curl in on himself. 

Finally Tessa comes in and Dean shifts down and moves his legs up automatically, his face sweaty and red as the doctor lifts the sheet. 

“Seven centimetres,” she announces proudly though to Dean this news seems to be a blow. 

“That’s it?” he gasps, his head peaking around his swollen belly. 

“Sorry, Dean. That’s just how it goes. Some babies just take their time,” she says, leaving Dean to swear under his breath, leaving Castiel to wipe the omega’s sweaty brow and to talk the omega out of his disappointment. 

Nurse Moseley comes in with more ice. Hands on her hips, she looks between Dean and Cas before placing the tray down. 

“Get up,” she says. Though it’s not a command, there is also no hint of suggestion or of choice in her voice. Dean huffs and looks wide-eyed and incredulous to Castiel, who can only shrug nervously. 

“Come on,” she says, like Dean is a stubborn dog that needs coaxing. “You’ll feel better. Just need some gravity to get that baby goin’.” 

Dean agrees with an eye roll. 

"You're lucky you're in labour, Dean Smith, or I'd swat you on the head."

That gets a laugh from Dean and he eagerly helps Moseley take off the monitors.  

“Get him a robe,” she says, her head jerking to a chair. Castiel hurries to follow her command and leaves Moseley to finish getting Dean out of the bed. 

Everything seems to slow to a painstaking pace. The way Dean waddles down the hall, the shuffle of his slippered feet echoing through the empty corridors. How Dean pauses every other minute and lets his hand grip tight to the guard rail and to Castiel’s arm as a contraction ripples through him. 

“Breathe, Dean,” Castiel chants like a mantra, quietly and carefully. 

“Bite me, Cas.” 

They make it to the end of the hall before Dean curls in again. 

“Fuck,” he stutters. “Fuck this.” 

When the contraction passes, Dean straightens up. 

“I hate this,” he says quietly. “I can’t do this.”

“Of course you can. You’ve been doing great. You are going to walk down this hall and you’ll be dilated more and you’ll have the baby soon enough. I know you will.” 

Dean shakes his head. 

“I’m tired,” he says, his voice shaking. “I can’t do this.”

“I know you can,” Castiel tells him firmly. 

They walk the hall a couple more times, Dean gripping his back moaning with Castiel holding his arm. The contractions don’t come any closer, nor do they seem to get any stronger. After the fourth or fifth time they’ve paced the hall, Dean asks to stop. He looks drained and leans heavily onto to Castiel as they move back to the room. 

Dean slams his head back in frustration when Tessa tells him he’s still at seven centimetres. 

“I’ve been at that for four hours,” he bites out, wiping a tear from his eye. 

“This happens,” she says calmly. “We’ll check in a few hours and see if anything changes.” 

“And if it doesn’t?” Castiel asks. 

“It depends on where Dean is at this time. We can start on Pitocin and hope that speeds things up, but if that doesn’t work we’ll have to go for a c-section.” 

“No,” Dean cries out.

Castiel rubs the omega back gently, and says lowly to him, “Dean, don’t worry about that. We still have plenty of time.” 

“It would be last resort,” Tessa assures them. “And, unless the baby is stressed or something changes in your medical condition, this is entirely up to you, Dean.” 

“Right,” Dean mumbles. 

“I’m sure things will speed up soon,” Castiel adds. 

 

They don’t. Hours pass and it seems they are moving closer and closer to Sam winning the pool. Dean switches from labouring in the bed, curled up on his side or against Castiel, to pacing the hall as nurses with good intentions and big smiles wish them luck and cheer them on. Dean mutters darkly when they leave. 

They call Ellen and Bobby. Bobby calls them a couple of dumb-asses, but his voice is soft (though edged with worry) as he tells them to take care, Ellen tells them to hang in there and makes Castiel hand over the phone so that she can talk to Dean alone, and Castiel takes this time to find some food and wander the halls, happy to be out of the room for just a little bit. 

Despite his initial plans for a totally natural birth, near midnight Dean asks for pain relief and he’s given Demerol, which seems to calm him. He looks exhausted, pale with dark circles around his eyes, but he can’t seem to sleep. Castiel tries to stay awake too, but his eyes blur and he keeps nodding off. 

“You look like shit, man,” Dean laughs weakly. “Get some sleep.” 

Castiel protests, but by two in the morning he finds himself head down on the edge of Dean’s bed, fast asleep. 

Castiel is nudged awake a few hours later when Dean asks the alpha to help him to the bathroom. Castiel’s back aches from the chair, but he hides his moan as he helps Dean from the bed to the bathroom door, the omega clinging tightly to him. 

Castiel doesn’t get anymore sleep after that. The Demerol wears off and Dean is again groaning in pain, his head pressed to Castiel’s shoulder as contraction after contraction hits. 

“I’m done,” Dean says quietly as day breaks, flooding their room with bright morning light. Dean looks even more tired in the new light, his voice hoarse and his hands shake uncontrollably in Castiel’s. "I don't want to do this anymore." 

Castiel brings Dean’s hand to his mouth and kisses it gently. 

“You don’t have to,” he assures Dean, his voice a low scratchy rumble from lack of sleep.  “I’ll go get Tessa.”

Dean deflates with that, leaning heavily back into the pillows propped behind him. 

“Thanks, Cas.” 

 

Tessa frowns when she looks up from Dean’s legs. 

“Still seven centimetres,” she tells them, all her cheer gone and she looks sympathetically to Dean. Eyes closed, Dean nods as if he’s expected that news. Tessa stares at Dean, looking him over before asking them what they would like to do, though she looks at Dean like she already knows the answer. 

Dean is shaking still and he looks to Castiel as if he needs approval before he announces that he would like to have a c-section. 

“Good,” Tessa says brightly, a smile wide on her face. “I think you’ve made the right decision, Dean.” 

Dean looks doubtful. Castiel squeezes Dean’s hand again. “I’m proud of you,” he tells him. 

Dean frowns, his mouth agape like he's going to protest that. 

“We have a room ready,” Tessa announces as she re-enters with another doctor behind her. “So all we need to do now is prep you.” 

It is then that Castiel is hit with the fact that his baby is going to be here _\- like actually here._

Somewhere in the hours of labouring, Castiel has sort of lost the idea of an actual baby. Though his hands have soothed the contracting belly that held his child and he had watched the monitor that told him of his baby’s heartbeat, his attention was largely on Dean, lost in the moans and the pants and the pacing that took to bring their baby into this world. Now, as Castiel is handed scrubs to put on and Dean is moved to a portable bed, he realizes that this is happening and he’s terrified.

It seems especially cruel that the moment Castiel realizes in full clarity what is to happen, he is separated from Dean. 

“The father usually comes in after we make the incisions,” a nurse he does not recognize tells him. 

Castiel nods helplessly and puts on the scrubs he’s been given. 

Again he paces, his head capped and his hands play with the surgical mask that he’s supposed to put on. It twists and pulls in his fingers as a nurse with kind eyes opens the operating room door and nods to him.

He tries not to run, but when he reaches Dean his breath is ragged and he feels his heart pounding, banging hard against his chest. 

“Cas,” Dean slurs brightly, looking a little loopy from the drugs. “You’re here.” 

“Of course I am,” he says fondly, sitting on the stool placed by Dean’s head. 

There’s a curtain hiding Dean’s belly and behind it there are doctors in masks looking serious as they mutter medical terms that Castiel can barely hear or barely cares to hear. He looks at Dean and finds the omega staring back, eyes wide (his pupils dilated). Maybe Castiel is supposed to say something, but he finds his mouth is as dry as his eyes are wet and he instead reaches for Dean’s IV-covered hand and waits. 

A rusty cry breaks through the room. Dean is crying beside him.

“It’s a girl!” a doctor calls out, lifting a squalling infant above the curtain. Legs and arms flail with protest, pale and angry, and she just cries and cries and cries. 

For a second Castiel cannot see anything, his vision blurry, though he can hear Dean beside him saying “Cas,” with such awe and his hand feels like it could break in Dean’s grip.

Dean’s cheeks are wet with tears and Castiel quickly wipes them off as he keeps talking, keeps saying _something_ to him. Dean is both laughing and crying, and he looks like he’s ready to jump out and snatch the baby up. 

“Alright, ready to meet your little one?” a nurse asks. Castiel watches as she places a carefully wrapped bundle onto Dean's chest. 

She’s so _small_ , his daughter. Her fingers, impossibly tiny, wrap around Dean’s finger. Still crying, Dean coos at her, his fingers tracing her face as she starts to calm down and she stares at them wide-eyed and curious.

“Dean,” Castiel gasps out, kissing his forehead. “She’s perfect.”

"I know, Cas," Dean watery laughs, his cheeks shiny with tears. "I know." 


	15. Chapter 15

The apartment is as Dean's left it. Neat, scrubbed, and tidy. The bed is still hastily and poorly made from when they had left- Cas had look at him sourly when Dean refused to leave until the bed was made, arms crossed like he had any authority in this position before he had sighed loudly and reached across the bed, taking the sheets from Dean and rushing them out before the omega could criticize. 

Looking at the bed now, Dean smiles, too exhausted and sore to care about neat corners. He sits heavily on it, his belly still swollen and large like when he left, the only difference being the red puffy stitches that strain and pull as he lies down. 

Cas plumps the pillows, shifting and moving around Dean, his hands twitching and fixing before the omega rolls his eyes. 

“Enough, Cas.” 

Cas pulls his hands away, blinking at Dean. He looks properly chastised and if Dean wasn’t in such pain, a deep bodily ache that pulses through him, he would feel bad from the alpha. Instead, he reaches out wearily. 

“Emma,” he demands. 

Cas nods dutifully before he reaches down and carefully removes Emma from her car seat. The baby makes a soft noise of protest as she is put into Dean’s arms, giving a snuffle of indignation as she settles. For a moment, Dean forgets to breathe. 

He traces her ear, delicately following the indents and swirls. He pauses to watch her chest rise and fall, her face scrunching up before Dean pulls his hand away. 

He feels Cas’s breath hitch beside him and is suddenly made aware that the alpha has sat down next to him. Beside him, Cas’s body is stiff and alert as if he’s waiting for something. When Emma does nothing, his shoulders sag, bumping gently into Dean’s as he deflates, leaning closer and closer in. 

Dean could watch Emma sleep for hours, her weight both heavy and unreal in his arms. In fact he has- the first couple of days at the hospital spent largely with his eyes on her, ignoring the balloons, cards, and flowers visitors had brought, unaware of the conversation being held around him as Charlie and Sam chattered fervently with Cas. There had been some teasing about how out of it he had been, but he laughed it off as he waited eagerly for the pair to grow bored of holding his daughter and pass her back. 

Dean’s eyes close, and he jerks himself away, trying to get one last look at her before Cas murmurs something beside him and he feels his arms go empty. 

“No-” Dean protests weakly. 

“You need sleep,” Castiel tells him, his voice low and firm. 

Even though all he’s been doing for the last couple of days is sleeping, Dean is still sort of groggy from the pain meds and he’s sore and tired from the overall effort of leaving the hospital, so the thought of sleep seems good. 

He nods and waits for Cas to put Emma in her bassinet, close enough that he can see her and listen to her breathe before he settles in. The alpha draws the covers over him. 

 

Waking up is getting less and less painful. His middle is still _incredible_ sore and when he moves anywhere faster than a snail’s pace a jagged moment of pain shoots through him, quick but not fleeting. Cas had frowned at him every time Dean had tried to get out of the hospital bed, even just to go to the bathroom, though Dean feels way better than the first day in the hospital- especially after the second time he had woken up, no longer numbed by the drugs they had given him for the surgery, it was a pain that felt at the time almost all consuming. 

He remembers waking slowly, the pull of sleep still on him, his head slightly fuzzy, cotton-like. His head had rushed quickly over the memories of being moved to Recovery, of Castiel beside him, of the alpha’s hand gently brushing his hair and of him openly crying and telling Dean how proud he was of him, how amazing Dean was. 

At the time, Dean felt amazing, or, most likely, amazed. Now he doesn’t understand the endless praise from Cas- he had just sat there and did nothing- literally lying on his back as their child was brought into the world. His cheeks burn at the thought of how earnest Cas had looked at him. 

Yeah, it was amazing that he didn’t wake up the second time embarrassed. 

Instead, he woke up mumbling. 

_“Son of a bitch_.” 

The room had been filled with the scent of alpha, all strong and protective and it had filled Dean’s nose, helping him back into the room and reality. He remembers the feeling of cloudiness, a sensation that followed the omega since Emma was pulled out of him. He also remembers feeling raw, cut open and vulnerable, followed by the strangeness of being entirely himself in his body. That was when panic had set in and Dean had tried to ease himself out of the bed, only stopping when Cas’s scent hit him like a wave, steady and strong, making his chest fill with this unspeakable love that came from the alpha. 

 He remembers it like a punch to the gut, seeing Cas sitting next to him, his shirt sleeves rolled up, arms bent, and his attention entirely on the baby in his hands. Dean had sucked in a breath looking at them, looking at Emma, so tiny in Cas’s arms, her legs curling in as the alpha _cooed_ at her. 

There was nothing like it. Dean’s heart had ached just at the sight, and his scent had grown so strong that Cas knew he was awake and turned to him, hurriedly putting the baby in the omega’s arms. 

So yeah, Dean feels a lot better than two days ago. Waking now, he feels less raw, less jagged and uneven, though he wonders if the feeling of panic that arises when he first wakes will ever disappear. Though, he feels justified for feeling this way when he looks and sees that Emma isn’t in the room with him. 

Neither is Cas, and for a fleeting second Dean thinks maybe Cas has split and run, taking Emma with him. 

Dean shakes his head. He knows Cas and knows the alpha is largely harmless, but the feeling of panic only truly disappears when he steps into his living room and sees Cas trying to calm a fussy baby. 

“Alright, Emma.”

The alpha paces around the room, baby tucked into his collar and he keeps murmuring to her, his voice just on the edge of alarm. 

Dean has to hide a grin, ‘cause the alpha isn’t just trying to soothe her, he’s actually trying to hold a conversation with their _days old_ daughter. His voice low and serious as she squirms in his grip. Even as she protests against her alpha-daddy, Cas pauses to look at her, his eyes soft, the corners crinkling as he inquires about her well-being. 

“Yes, I know this is a lot to take in,” he says, kissing her head. “This is your new home though. I know, I know,” he soothes as Emma loudly fusses. “It’s not nice and warm like omega-daddy, right?” He pauses and frowns, tilting his head like he’s waiting for a response or something. “Of course, but we need to let him sleep.” 

“Cas,” Dean croaks out, slightly embarrassed. 

“Dean!” Cas turns. “You’re awake.” 

“Barely,” Dean grins, as he steps forward. 

“Careful,” Castiel says quickly, moving towards him. 

“I’m fine, Cas,” Dean rolls his eyes, though his body protests loudly as he moves, and a moan escapes from him. 

Cas frowns and hurries to Dean, gently guiding him to the couch. Giving up, Dean lets himself fall onto the couch as the pillows from the (former) guest bedroom are pushed behind his back and against his sides before Cas gently places one on his lap. 

“Regardless.” Cas says quietly as the baby begins to fuss even louder. 

Dean reaches out, desperate to hold her after being separated from her for what feels like ages. Waves of alpha protectiveness fill Dean again and he scoffs as Emma is settled into his arms. 

“You knew you’d have to give her back sometime,” he says. 

Cas smiles. “I was hoping you’d be out for a while… that she’d behave.” He tugs at her sock covered foot. 

“Fat chance.” Dean brushes Emma’s face, awe filling him as she squints and turns her head away from him. “You know she wants the goods that only I can provide,” he jokes. 

Cas rolls his eyes at Dean before he leans in, his face serious. Dean glances at Cas, but the alpha’s attention is solely on the baby. 

“God, she’s really something, right?” Dean whispers. 

“She’s perfect,” Cas agrees and Dean remembers him saying that repeatedly in the operating room, remembers it being said with such awe as the alpha kissed his forehead and told Dean how proud he was of him. 

Emma begins to cry. 

“Alright, alright,” Dean says, lifting his shirt. “One happy meal coming right up.” 

At the hospital Emma had been fussy, refusing to drink or to latch on. Dean had laughed it off, too tired and too enraptured by his daughter to worry. Missouri (as she told him to call her) had said the baby would feed when she wanted to and Dean had taken that mean she would want to when they got home. 

He was wrong. 

“Why don’t I grab a bottle?” Cas stands up as the baby’s cries get louder and louder. 

Dean wants to say no, to keep trying, but when he looks down at Emma, her face red and her eyes closed tight as she cries, he knows better. 

“Yeah,” he says, defeated, his throat closing in tight. “Might as well.” 

When Cas comes back with a bottle in hand, Dean gives him the baby. 

“Dean,” Cas protests softly. 

“No,” Dean shakes his head. “I… I’m just really tired, man. I’m gonna hit the hay for a few minutes.” 

“If you think that is best.” Castiel frowns, watching the baby drink. 

“I’ll get her for the diaper change,” Dean promises, patting the alpha’s arm as he heads back to his bedroom. 

Even though he tells Cas he’s tired (and he really is), he can’t sleep. He lies in bed listening to Cas move around, to the alpha singing softly, his voice a deep croak, to Emma, pauses often to murmur words Dean cannot make out to her. Guilt twists in him, as well as disappointment. Dean burrows deep into the covers, hoping that will keep out the noise, but he can only think of how childish he’s being, how much he's overreacting. He turns over too quickly, the stitches on his belly burning as he does this.

“Fuck,” he says out loud. 

He hears Cas pause in the living room. 

A few minutes later, he hears the alpha get up and move towards the bedroom and he quickly shuts his eyes. 

The door creaks open and light comes flooding through the room briefly, the outline of Cas visible. Dean can feel Cas watching him, waiting, and he knows that the alpha knows he’s awake, but Dean just squeezes his eyes shut and holds his breath as Cas puts a sleeping Emma in her bassinet. 

 

They establish a pattern of some sorts. If you can say structuring your days around the greedy and thoughtless demands of a newborn a “pattern”. Either way, there’s an ease that appears between the two of them as they struggle and zombie through the first weeks of their daughter’s life. 

Under Cas’s insistence, Dean isn’t allowed to get up a night, not allowed to reach for their baby unless the alpha is there. Cas sleeps in the living room, but if he hears either Dean or Emma move in the night, he’s right at Dean’s door, tiredly lifting up a squawking newborn and handing her to the omega. Cas stays in the room until Emma has drifted off, hell, even until Dean is fast asleep, although the omega can’t be sure, as he usually out as soon as the baby leaves his hands. Some nights though, when they’ve been up ever fifteen minutes or so to deal with Emma, Cas passes out on Dean’s bed and Dean wakes to find an apologetic and embarrassed alpha hurrying out of the room. 

Most mornings, when Dean wakes, he checks on the alpha, watching Cas curled up on the couch. The alpha doesn’t look very comfortable, his legs always dangling off the side, an arm jutted out at a weird angle, but Cas doesn’t say anything, never complains, so Dean doesn’t either. 

Naomi comes to visit them the first weekend home. Cas has been sending his mother numerous emails attached with photos of Emma since probably the moment Emma had been wiped down and placed in Dean’s arms, but still it seems nobody is prepared when Naomi arrives. 

She stays thankfully for a short period of time, showing up on Saturday morning at a reasonable hour, loaded with gifts and her omega husband, Chuck, trailing behind her. Dean is in sweatpants and a shirt stained with… well he’s not really sure what the stain is anymore. Cas looks just as a bad as Dean, a permanent five o’clock shadow on his face, and the omega has to hide a smile as he watches Cas try and entertain his mother (who is wearing a suit, of course) in a sweatpants.

Not that Naomi cares. Dean expects a look of disapproval or disgust when Naomi knocks on their door, but her face remains blank and unreadable until Cas brings out Emma. Dean’s surprised how much Naomi can actually smile- he thought that sort of thing would kill her- but her face almost breaks into two as she holds her granddaughter. 

Dean also expects a lot of questions finely tuned to insinuate how much he’s fucking up this parenting gig already, but instead he gets questions asking how fussy she’s been, how long the hospital stay was.

“Dean, how are you feeling?” Naomi asks when Cas is out of the room. Dean’s almost dumbstruck by the question. 

“Uh… good. Yeah, good.” 

Naomi stares at him doubtfully. “I’m glad to hear that,” she finally says, turning back to Emma. 

Naomi and Chuck stay for almost the entirety of Sunday before the alpha puts her purse under her arm and gets up. 

“We have a flight to catch,” she says. “Castiel, a word.” 

Dean is left to make small talk with Chuck, a quiet omega, who looks nervous and sort of high strung. Dean’s barely said two words to him or has heard two words from Chuck the entire weekend, but he watches the omega grandfather’s face light up with a small private smile as he holds his granddaughter. 

The two alphas come back into the room and Cas looks properly chastised, focusing largely on his feet as he helps his parents out of the house. Dean blames Naomi for disrupting them, ‘cause _something_ feels weird for the next couple of days. Cas sort of ignores Dean, or, at least, avoids him, something the alpha does surprisingly well considering the size of Dean’s apartment. Dean doesn’t say anything. 

He has other things to deal with. Like the fact that _Emma just won’t feed._ She has no problem with Dean’s milk, but for some reason she seems to hate Dean (or his nipples anyways). It’s a struggle every single time. He adjusts her and changes his hold on her, but nothing can make her take. She sometimes latches on, so he know she can do this, but she suckles for a few moments before she turns her head away and cries and Dean has to wait for Cas to bring a bottle. 

Cas keeps telling him that it doesn’t matter, as long as Emma is happy and healthy, but for Dean it does matter. He knows, rationally, there’s a reason bottles and formulas were invented and he remembers Garth telling them that not all babies will take t breastfeeding, but there’s a small part of Dean that sees his inability as a failure. That he’s less of an omega for this. 

Dean doesn’t say anything though, just passes Emma back to Cas when he gets too frustrated, just ignores the alpha saying that they should give it a minute, that they should get out the books. Dean knows he can’t keep ignoring it, knows Cas is going to say something eventually, but Dean keeps pushing these thoughts to the back and instead focuses on his daughter and waits. 

Dean wakes to a loud angry cry. 

Half awake, he turns to the bassinet just as Cas comes into the room, rubbing his eyes and adjusting his rumpled t-shirt that's hanging off his shoulder. 

“Dean, I got it,” the alpha says roughly, lifting up the baby. 

“Christ, Cas, you’ve don’t have to grab her every time she cries. She’s literally right next to me,” Dean snaps, irritation flaring in him at the alpha’s concern. 

Cas opens his mouth, then shakes his head, thinking better of it. 

“No, what were you going to say?”

Cas looks up from the baby. “You’re supposed to be taking it easy,” he reminds Dean. 

Dean stares at the alpha, the irritation growing within him. Not that Cas is wrong, not that Cas’s concern is misplaced, but just the fact that Cas seems to care _so damn much_ makes Dean want to punch him. He looks at the alpha and sees days old stubble and eye lids made heavy from lack of sleep and a part of him dies down, knowing that Cas hasn’t complained once. Not about how often they’re being woken up, how freaking loud the neighbours seem to be (neighbours who’ve never bothered Dean before), how Dean gets weirdly protective of Emma sometimes and growls at the alpha. Not even when it’s three o’clock in the morning and they’re both covered in baby vomit and Dean insists on the first shower. 

“Whatever,” Dean mumbles. 

“Okay Emma Bee, here’s daddy,” Cas says quietly as he passes the baby over to him. 

Dean tries to quiet Emma as Cas lifts up the feeding pillow. 

Dean’s too tired to go through the charades of pretending like this time it might work, so he rolls his eyes, his irate scent filling the room. 

Cas ignores it though, pointedly avoiding Dean’s eyes as he places the pillow around Dean. Grumbling, Dean lifts up his shirt, uncomfortably aware of Cas hovering beside him. Though he wants to, he knows better than to send the alpha away. 

Just like Dean suspects, Emma refuses to feed. 

“Come on, Em, you can do it,” Dean says as he changes position. He strokes her cheek and waits. Again, she refuses, crying and crying until Dean falls back defeated. 

“Damn it!” he yells. 

“Dean-” Cas begins quietly. 

“I don’t want to hear it,” Dean snaps, his eyes blurring. 

He tries to focus on Emma, though she disappears as tears fill his eyes. He waits until he hears Cas get up and leave the room before he lets them fall. He cries and cries quietly as he adjusts and moves Emma hoping that she could just do this _one_ thing he asked for. 

He wipes quickly at his face as he hears Cas re-enter the room, a bottle in hand and a stern expression on his face. 

Dean knows what the room smells like, knows he really can’t hide it from the alpha, but he avoids eye contact anyways as he feels the bottle being pushed into his hand. 

“Cas-” Dean pulls down his shirt. He hands the bottle back to the alpha. 

Cas shakes his head, refusing to take it. He sits down beside Dean, his mouth a thin line and Dean knows that means nothing he can say or do will move the alpha. 

With a defeated sigh, he brings the bottle to Emma’s mouth. She latches onto the rubber nipple eagerly, drinking steadily at the milk he pumped earlier. 

“This isn’t a terrible thing,” Castiel says softly, stroking Emma’s head. “You know that, Dean.” 

Dean looks down at Emma, her eyes fluttering shut as she drinks before he nods. 

“It’s just…” He takes a deep breath. “I just suck at this,” he confesses. 

Cas looks at him startled. 

“No,” Dean shakes his head. “No, I mean it, Cas. I fucking suck. I can’t do _anything_. Can’t get up, can’t lift anything. I’m just sitting here useless. I can’t even feed my daughter properly. Can’t even give birth like a proper omega!” 

The frustrated tears Dean cried just minutes before fall again, leaving his cheeks wet. He wipes at them quickly, but they keep coming. 

“And,” Dean says with a gulp, “it just sucks, ‘cause you’re so great. Not just at taking care of her, though you’re awesome at that, but with everything. You feed me, you do my laundry, you let me throw tantrums at four in the morning, even though you’re exhausted and running on way less sleep than me. Fuck, I’m sorry you’re stuck raising this kid with such a screw up.” 

Castiel stares at him his mouth agape. 

“Dean,” Cas protests, his voice shaky. “Dean, you’re so good. I can’t believe you don’t see it.” 

The alpha shakes his head, looking away. “You’re not any less of a parent or an omega or a human being for bottle feeding. For having a caesarean. I’m proud of yo-”

“You keep saying that,” Dean stumbles with the bottle, turning it over in his hand, “like you mean it.” 

Cas looks at him like his heart is breaking. He moves to the omega and cups Dean’s chin, forcing him to look at the alpha. 

“I _am_ proud of you. You brought our child into this world. Our daughter is healthy and _amazing_ and that’s all because of you.” Cas lets out a desperate laugh. “I’m no better than you are at this. It’s my job to take care of the two of you, but I have my doubts, my fears. I watch how you are with her and I feel _helpless_ , that I’m not needed here.” 

Dean scoffs. “I’d be running around with my hair on fire and covered in like five types of fluids if you weren’t here. She’s so tiny, Cas, but, God, it’s like she came out with a battle plan on how to destroy me and it mostly involves poop.” 

Cas smiles and looks down at Emma, who is sleeping peacefully. 

“She’s wily and stubborn,” the alpha agrees. “An admirable foe. Though I’m certain the stubbornness is your fault.” 

Dean grins, wiping his eyes. “Oh, she gets that from me, huh?” 

“Definitely,” Cas says slyly. “Should I put her back?”

“Nah, she can stay here for a minute.” 

Dean should put her to bed, he can feel the little energy he has draining from his body, but he can’t tear his eyes away from her. He feels Cas move beside him and they watch. 

“I just had this plan,” Dean breaks the silence. “About how she was going to be born, how it was going to be. Just sucks that nothing’s worked out.” 

“I believe babies very rarely care about plans,” Cas observes. “And I understand the disappointment you feel for that. You had an idea of how you wanted things to go, but the universe had another. There’s nothing wrong with you with how you had Emma. If she wants to breastfeed she will, but if not, that isn’t your failing.” 

“Thanks, Cas.” 

A smile flickers across the alpha’s face. 

Shortly after, Cas drifts off, his head on Dean’s shoulder and the omega is content to leave him there until the alpha lets out a rumbling snore. Dean pokes Cas. The alpha shakes himself awake. 

“Sorry.”

“Put her to bed,” Dean says not unkindly. 

Dean can hear the creak of the alpha’s body, bones cracking, as he gets up. The alpha moves stiffly- evidence of the many nights he’s spent on a couch- as he puts the baby in the bassinet. 

“You should just stay here for the night.” 

Cas turns to him surprised. 

“You want me to stay?” Cas asks carefully. 

Dean shrugs. “Just saving you time. Plus, I’d probably get more sleep if you stayed here instead of slamming doors open all the time.”

Cas rolls his eyes. “I do not ‘slam’ doors,” his fingers curl into quotation marks. “as you say.” 

“Then you open them loudly,” Dean corrects. 

Cas looks like he’s going to argue, but Dean just pats the bed. 

“So, you joining or what?” 


	16. Chapter 16

Beside him, the bed is empty. 

A week or two ago, this would’ve been typical, but now Dean has grown so used to the warm solid heat of the alpha next to him that waking up alone feels weird. Yeah, they’re just sleeping together _platonically_ , so Dean really shouldn’t read too much into how his stomach rolls at the sight of the empty bed or how he misses untangling his legs from Cas’s as they rush to get a crying baby. And yes, maybe sometimes he wakes and finds that he’s cold and acting on instinct (and instinct only), he burrows himself into Cas’s side. And since he’s invading Cas’s personal space, it seems only fair to let the alpha wrap an arm around his waist, holding him tight and close. Sure there are mornings when Dean wakes long before Cas and the morning light washes over the sleeping alpha in way that makes Dean pause, makes him watch the steady rise of Cas’s chest, makes him smile when he sees how tight the alpha keeps his eyes shut, like he’s solving math equations in his sleep.  That sounds like all kinds of creepy and Dean should know, since he’s caught Cas watching him sleep, has woken up numerous times to find the alpha’s gaze on him and that’s just freaky. Either way, they’re just sleeping together _platonically_ and Dean shouldn’t feel abandoned when he looks over and sees Cas is gone from his bed. 

Still, when Dean looks over and sees Cas is not there, it just feels wrong, like he’s misplaced something important. Even from his bed, he can sense this aloneness throughout, knows the apartment is empty even before he creeps into the living room with the hope that Cas and Emma are there. 

He finds the room empty except for a post-it note on the table that tells him Cas has gone out for a run and has taken Emma with him.

As Dean stares at the smiley face written under Cas’s name, panic starts to fill within him. A fear of being so far away from his baby. It’s not like Emma hasn’t left the apartment before- there’s been a few frantic (and quick) outings in the last two weeks, mostly cut short by Dean’s fears and Cas’s overprotectiveness, but this is the first time Dean’s been separated from her. 

Unsure how long it’s been since Cas left or how long the alpha plans on being gone, Dean hurries to the fridge. There’s a couple of bottles missing, meaning Cas and Emma could be gone for _hours_. The panic steadily rising in Dean falls quickly, replaced with an eagerness of momentary freedom. _He’s alone_. He should feel guilty about this, but the idea of that he’s alone, _actually alone_ , even for an hour or so, makes him practically giddy. 

Dean showers first, slowly and peacefully, taking his time to scrub himself clean, to feel the warm water hit his back. It’s quite the change from the numerous whore’s baths he’s been taken lately, and when he finally leaves the shower, he feels like a new person. Lazily, he makes a cup of decaf tea, tidying slowly before starting the laundry that has piled up. Just as he puts on the last load (mostly Cas’s stained t-shirts), he hears the apartment door open. 

“Dean!” Cas yells as he pulls out an earphone, still jogging in place. He takes his pulse as he gently rocks the jogging stroller (a gift from Naomi’s last visit). “You’re awake.”

Dean ignores Cas to peer into the stroller, looking over Emma. She seems fine- in fact she’s passed out- still Dean examines her carefully. 

 

“She’ll probably need to be fed soon.” Cas stretches out an arm. “I timed it so we only needed one bottle stop. I know how important that is to you.” 

Dean ducks his head. Ever since the little… meltdown he had about not being able to breastfeed, Dean’s sort of taken over bottle duty and yeah, maybe he’s a little defensive about who feeds Emma, even though it’s all kinds of stupid, ‘cause a) she’s a baby who doesn’t really care _who_ feeds her as long as she’s fed and b) he’s getting even _less_ sleep since he’s taken over. Cas doesn’t seem to mind though, not at all. In fact, he’s been really encouraging towards Dean. Hell, he even mentioned calling up Garth and getting a number for a lactation consultant if Dean wanted, an idea the omega quickly nixed. 

“Otherwise,” Cas continues, looking down fondly, “she’s been perfectly behaved.” 

Dean nods, though his gaze does not leave Emma. 

“Nobody touched her, right?” He asks irritably. 

Maybe Dean’s being a little too protective of her, but come on, people are disease-filled dicks and he doesn’t want any random old ladies with polio breathing on her. He sniffs at Emma, but he can only smell her fresh baby scent mixed with his own and Cas's. 

Cas opens the fridge and Dean can see the alpha smirking at him as he places a full bottle in it. 

“Nobody would try,” Cas assures. 

“Alright,” Dean relents, picking up the basket of laundry he needs to fold. 

“Can you pass me a shirt?” Cas calls over, towel in hand. 

Dean throws over a clean shirt, looking away as the alpha shucks off his top. Without meaning to, Dean catches a glimpse of Cas's stomach, all muscular and taunt, sweat still beading off of the alpha as he wipes himself down. 

Cas looks _good_. Looks real good. The thought turns something in Dean,  something that’s linked with the memories of being held down by the alpha, the feel of Cas pressed against him, Cas lips kissing Dean’s body. 

Cas’s head snaps up and Dean quickly looks away, thankful he can blame his scent on the hormones that have been messing with him since Emma’s birth. He takes another look when Cas turns away. 

He shivers, though another thing twists in Dean’s stomach, a jealously so fierce he can taste the bitterness of it. The flat stomach, all perfect and smooth, how little Cas’s body has changed even though they’ve been eating the same microwavable meals and take-out for the last two weeks. Maybe there’s a bit of softness to the alpha’s body, but it’s nothing compared to Dean’s, his stomach still swollen, large and round. The swelling has gone down some, enough that he doesn’t look like he’s nine months pregnant anymore, but there’s still this puffiness to his body, that makes him feel detached from it, alien-like. It's unfamiliar, and it surprises Dean when he look down and sees a swollen gut with a scar that is red, jagged, and unmistakable, that tugs and pulls at him, never letting him forget. 

As he watches Cas dress, he finds his hands on his stomach, poking and squeezing the fat that has gathered there resentfully.

Emma starts to fuss and Cas moves to her instantly as Dean tries to get up. His body aches and protests as he moves to fast, and he falls back defeated, waiting for Cas to place a feeding pillow around him and for the alpha to put Emma in his arms. Castiel does so, murmuring gentle assurances to the baby as she settles. 

Without thinking, Cas reaches over to support Emma’s head, his arms wrapping around Dean’s body, his right hand pressing against Dean’s side. The action is entirely without malice, but Dean fights the urge to swat Cas's hand away. 

Instead, he elbows Cas. 

The alpha looks at him slightly shocked, his eyes wide and questioning before a flush of shame fills his face and he drops his hand, moving away. Pointedly, he clears his throat. 

Red-faced and flustered, Dean focuses on Emma, watching her as she eagerly drinks. He feels the alpha move closer as they both watch in silence. He looks at Cas sheepishly, but the alpha avoids his gaze. 

“Sorry,” Dean mumbles. 

Cas shrugs, reaching over to turn on the TV. He flips automatically to _Doctor Sexy._

Dean chokes back a noise of embarrassment. Again, Cas ignores him, his attention entirely on the screen. 

It turns out that late night television mostly consists of endless _Doctor Sexy_ re-runs and thatat 3 in the morning, Dean is sleep-deprived enough to not be embarrassed about flipping to his favourite guilty pleasure. He was prepared for some mocking, but Cas, who insists on staying up with Dean while Emma is fed, seems to enjoy the show and they’ve both been avidly watching it. It’s different in the daytime though, when Dean’s awake enough to feel shame about his crappy TV habits, but Cas hasn’t mentioned anything, nor has he ever teased Dean about it.  So, they sit and watch. 

“It seems impractical to wear cowboy boots in a hospital,” Cas points out dryly, finally breaking the silence. 

“That’s what makes him sexy,” Dean quickly defends, smirking as the alpha rolls his eyes. 

“There must be some code against it," Castiel wonders, his eyes never leaving the screen.  

-

Despite the improbably amount of love affairs and the frankly unsanitary amount of workplace sex, Castiel may have gotten a little _too_ engrossed with _Doctor Sexy MD_. Dean had flipped to the show one night with a look that dared Castiel to say anything, but after the omega has explained (quite eagerly) who was who, what was going on and all the other numerous subplots, the alpha could sort of see the appeal. Even if Castiel had disliked the medical drama, it seems to be Dean’s favourite show, and he could watch Dean watch _Doctor Sexy MD_ all night, which was happening on a regular basis anyways. 

Still, Castiel has to admit the two of them might have a problem with their television viewing habits if Dean’s mother _and_ father can just walk into their apartment without either of them noticing. 

One moment Castiel is watching two doctors fornicate in a supply closet and the next he finds himself being scared out of his wits when he finally notices the alpha woman and beta man standing beside them. 

“Dean!” Ellen call out, nearly making the omega fall of the couch. Dean's yelp makes Castiel suddenly alert, his hackles rising as he lets out a low protective growl before he registers whose standing there. 

“Cool it there, boy.” Ellen says to Cas, her eyebrow raised like she's daring Castiel to do anything. 

“Jesus Christ, Mom. Learn to knock,” Dean snaps, his scent calming down. 

“Learn to listen,” she smirks. 

“Mom!” Dean jumps up, placing Emma in Cas's hand as he throw the feeding pillow to the ground. 

Dean hugs his mother tightly, Ellen gripping him like she plans on never letting go. Dean says something repeatedly into her hair until she pulls away. 

“Dean, baby. How are you?” Ellen sweeps her son's body, looking at him carefully. Castiel straightens up, waiting. "You look good," she nods, letting Dean go. "Tired, but good." 

“Yeah?” Dean laughs. “You can blame your granddaughter for the tired part.” Dean points in Cas’s direction. “Do you want to meet her?”

Ellen nods. 

“That’s why we flew out here, ya idjit,” Bobby says, dropping their bags. 

Castiel stands up carefully, holding Emma tight to his chest. The baby squirms and sniffs though she settles as Castiel moves to Ellen and Bobby. 

Ellen looks at Emma, her face lightening up, her eyes soft and large. Beside her, Bobby's mouth drops and whistles out a curse word. 

 

“Castiel,” Ellen greets, though her eyes stay firmly on Emma. 

“Do you want to hold her?” Dean suggests, a small prideful smile on his face. 

Ellen nods, her mouth tight as if she’s trying not to cry. She reaches out, and Cas passes his daughter over, keeping his hands firmly on Emma's had, stroking lightly. Though Castiel had no problems with his own mother holding his daughter, Ellen’s hands on the downy head of his child unsettles Cas and he feels an alpha protectiveness surge through him, all instinct and animal-like.

Emma wiggles and makes a weak noise of protest, but soon she settles, falling asleep peacefully in her grandmother’s arms. Castiel refuses to let go. 

“Oh,” Ellen says, her voice quiet and awe-like. 

“She’s something,” Bobby says gruffly as he peers over his wife’s shoulder, though his eyes are wet. 

“Yeah, she is,” Dean says proudly, beaming.

It feels private, this moment, like Castiel shouldn't be there. He steps back, one last stroke of his daughter's head, and exits the room quietly. Unneeded and tired, he heads to the bedroom ready for sleep. 

 

Castiel wakes suddenly, jerking awake as the sound of laughter and shouts of protest fill his ears. There's a clanking of pots coming from the other room and Cas rolls his eyes, his mood sour when he remembers who is here. It's then that he spots Dean by the foot of the bed. 

“Ready to join the land of the living, Mr. Comatose?” Dean smirks. Cas feels the omega’s hand on his ankle, absently stroking the bare skin there and Castiel guesses that this must have been what woke him. “Dude, you’ve been out of hours.”

Castiel grunts and reaches for his phone, blinking when he sees the time. An entire morning and afternoon has past. 

“I’m sorry,” he sits up quickly. “It was unfair of me to leave you alone with Emma.” 

Dean shakes his head, smiling. “She hasn’t left Mom or Dad’s arms since they got here.” He sits on the bed. “Might even join you for a bit. Emma’s got Mom and Dad wrapped around her little pinkie and I don’t they’re going to surrender her anytime soon.”

Castiel lifts the covers and Dean crawls in, wrapping himself around Castiel, drawing them closer. A pleased hum escapes from the omega as Castiel wraps an arm around him, resting his chin on Dean's head. 

Dean wrinkles his nose. “Grab a shower before dinner,” he murmurs. 

“I will, Dean,” Castiel says, looking over to see the omega has passed out. 

They sleep. Dean with his mouth open wide and drooling, Castiel lightly, ready to wake for any noise or movement. He wakes fully when he hears Emma fuss, but she quiets before Castiel can get out of bed, Ellen's voice loud but soothing. It feels nice to lie there and know they won’t be disturbed anytime soon. 

Castiel is awake though, so he slips out of the omega’s grasp to take a much needed shower. He can smell the sweat of his morning jog still on him, mixed with stale scent of sleep. He watches quickly, feeling more and more human as he dresses into fresh clothing. 

“There’s Papa,” Ellen calls out when Castiel leaves the bathroom. She has Emma tucked against her chest, her hands soothing the baby’s back. Cas moves into the kitchen, the smell of a hearty meal filling his nose. 

“She’s been good?” he asks, grabbing a stack of plates.

“Relatively,” Ellen smiles, grabbing Emma's tiny fist. "Got plenty of rest?" 

“Enough,” Castiel shrugs.

“And how has Dean been?” Ellen asks, her voice low and serious. 

“He seems fine.” 

“You better be taking care of him,” Ellen says sharply, her alpha scent strong. “Of both of them.” 

Castiel holds back a growl. 

“I’m trying,” he says firmly. 

Ellen nods, though she still looks doubtful. Castiel ignores her, in favour of setting the table. He moves around the apartment easily, no section of it a stranger to him now, and as he places the last fork, he sees Ellen staring at him, her mouth a tight thin line. 

Bobby opens the door, carrying two huge bags of groceries. Castiel hurries to help the beta man, who grumbles that “he’s not that old yet,” though he seems pleased when Castiel takes the entire load from him. With Bobby back, Ellen gives Emma to her husband and calls Castiel to come help her peel potatoes.

Dean wakes up just as Ellen places the last dish on the table. Rubbing his eyes, his clothes wrinkled and his hair wild, he smiles at the three of them, reaching for Emma. 

Dinner is filled with small talk, conversations that don't allow Castiel to say much. He doesn't mind. He enjoys watching the Smiths banter with each other. He learns that Jo has moved back with Ellen and Bobby, that's she's been left in charge of the Roadhouse with someone called "Ash", who Ellen says is one of her best, a "goddamn genius" though Dean looks doubtful and Bobby mutters "he's an idjit" under his breath. Ellen watches Dean eat, her eyes narrowing whenever Dean yawns and she looks pointedly at Cas when she watches the omega shovel dinner into his mouth. Castiel avoids her gaze, his attention on the meal, which he too is eating quickly, enjoying a break for the numerous amounts of take-out he and Dean have been eating. 

Emma begins to cry. Dean looks down at her, his fork half-way to his mouth, and he moves to get up, but Castiel reaches for her. 

“Let me,” he says. 

He comes back to find the Smiths talking lowly to each other. Dean shakes his head and mutters something quietly in protest, his brows furrow in rage. He stops talking when he spots Castiel, and the rest of the table follows, making polite small talk until the meal is done. 

As Ellen clears the table, Castiel washes dishes, pushing Dean out of the room when the omega offers to help. Castiel insists that Dean rest, Ellen nodding approvingly as he ushers the omega out of the room. 

By the time the food is put away and the dishes are washed, Bobby has passed out on the couch, a football game playing quietly in the background and Castiel stands there unsure. Unsure of his place, unsure of how needed he is in this apartment, unsure if Dean wants him to stay while Ellen and Bobby are here. He fidgets with the tea towel, wondering if he can find some task to keep him another hour, but he watches Ellen pull out a cot and Bobby snoring and he knows he must leave. Castiel hasn't been in his apartment for weeks. He's half sure the last time he was there was just before Dean was released from the hospital, a quick visit made to pick up various baby supplies and some clothes, hurriedly done with the knowledge that Dean was waiting for him. The idea of going back to an empty apartment fills Castiel with dread, but he doesn't want to explain to Dean's parents that he basically lives here now, isn't sure what Dean wants.  

“Castiel?” Ellen asks gently, her hands on her hips. Castiel blinks. 

“I better go,” he tells her, reaching for his keys, left forgotten by the door when he had tried to manoeuvre a stroller and himself through it earlier. 

“Cas,” Ellen repeats. 

“Tell Dean I’ll see him tomorrow.” 

 

He wakes alone and disorientated, confused at first that he can’t hear the rusty cries of his newborn or that there's nobody beside him. No longer totally exhausted, he feels clear-headed, thankful for a full nine hours, a realization that fills him with guilt and makes him hurry out his apartment. 

He sneaks into Dean’s apartment just as dawn is breaking. Bobby and Ellen are still asleep, so he tip-toes into Dean's room. 

Both Dean and Emma are awake. Dean paces the room, tiredly trying to soothe the baby as Emma cries angrily. Dean looks up surprised, his eyes wide with dark circles surrounding them. Entirely exhausted, he slumps eagerly onto the bed as Castiel takes the baby, yawning out a thanks as Castiel draws Emma close.

Castiel takes Dean's place in pacing the room, walking steadily from one end to another, talking to his daughter, his voice low and kind. He asks her how she is and why she feels so blue, but, being a baby, she doesn’t respond, though her cries quiet and she soon falls asleep on his shoulder, leaving it wet with drool.

Dean looks at Castiel like he wants to ask the alpha something, but he doesn’t say anything, just curl back under the covers and falls asleep.

With Dean, Bobby and Ellen asleep, Castiel takes Emma out for run, enjoying the solid smack of pavement beneath his feet. The wheels of the stroller squeak, making a steady beat that clears the alpha's mind. He enjoys being out in the world, away from the smallness of Dean's apartment, from the smothering feel of too many people.  

The peacefulness disappears when he returns and finds Ellen and Bobby waiting for him, eager to take his daughter away from him. They hold her until she cries to be fed and Cas offers to take her to Dean. His day turns largely into this, moving Emma back and forth between her grandparents and Dean and he wonders just how long the older Smiths plan on staying. 

Castiel sort of gets his answer two days before he returns to work as Bobby leaves, saying he has classes to teach, courses to plan and (with Ellen's urging) a Roadhouse to supervise, which, Castiel fears, means Ellen plans on staying longer. 

It's selfish of him to want Ellen to leave. To want Dean and himself to go back to a week ago when they were alone together. Castiel sees how gratefully Dean is to have his mother here, sees how happy the omega is to have someone else help cook and clean, to have another hand to help the baby. Castiel had thought he was doing a good job taking care of Dean and Emma, but Dean looks so happy, like a burden has been lifted, with Ellen staying with him, that he begins to doubt, begins to feel misplaced. Castiel is Dean’s alpha ( _not his alpha_ , his mother’s voice reminds him), and Emma is _his_ daughter. He shouldn’t feel like this.

Castiel can't say anything either, because Ellen can make Dean happy in ways that Castiel never can, no matter how much he praises the omega, or tells Dean how proud of him he is. So Castiel just bites his tongue and drives back to his apartment for the night. 

Ellen stays when Castiel leaves to go back to work. Three weeks have passed since Emma's birth, gone far too quickly, band he feels bad for leaving her, but he's used up all his vacation and sick days and he can't take a paternity leave without stealing days from Dean. He tells himself he's lucky compared to some alphas, those who have to hurry back the day after their child is born, but he hates being away, hates how little time he gets with Emma. 

It doesn't help that he arrives back to work to a desk piled high with papers and contracts. He secretary tells him of a meeting that's happening in a few hours after congratulating Castiel on the new baby. Castiel has grown used to routine based on diapers and bottles, and it takes him far long than he likes to get back into the pace of a corporate world. He has a double workload, Dean's work passed to him (though another alpha in his department seems be working even _less_ when Castiel gets back) and stays later and later each night just to catch up.  

Even worse than this new work load is Zachariah. Their relationship has always been... icy, even more so since Castiel had confronted the beta about his treatment of Dean. After that  _incident_ , Zachariah had ignored the two of them, which felt more like an award than a punishment. Castiel expects the same when he returns to Sandover, and is surprised to find Zachariah's full attention on him. The beta praises Castiel while giving him double the work load, smiling a toothy smile that makes him look like a great white shark. This, Castiel thinks, must make him the prey. Castiel also expects sly remarks made at Dean's or the baby's expense, though Zachariah remains silent on both those topics, even when Castiel spends an entire meeting he's presenting at with spit-up on his jacket. 

Only once has Castiel mentioned Dean or Emma to his boss, accidentally when Zachariah hands him another assignment that _must_ be finished that night. It's already five o'clock. 

"But Dean needs me," Castiel blurts out, too tired to realize what he’s saying. “I have a baby that needs to be looked after.”

“You better hurry up then,” Zachariah says, a dangerous flash in his eyes, his grin growing more shark-like. 

Castiel works until eleven that night.

 

“Dude.” 

He feels a finger poke gently at him. 

“No,” Castiel protests, turning away. 

“Dude, wake up.” 

Castiel reluctantly opens his eyes. The morning light in the room is almost blinding, making Castiel groan as he rubs his eyes. Beside him, his phone is ringing and as he reaches for it, he realizes he's surrounded by the duvet, all soft and warm and cozy. 

He turns over and sees Dean beside him, staring at him.

“Did I sleep here?” 

Dean laughs. “Yeah, no shit.” 

Castiel sits up. He's still wearing his work pants, though his belt is missing.

“It kept poking me last night,” Dean says sheepishly. 

Castiel smiles and falls back onto the bed. 

“Oh no you don’t, big boy,” Dean pokes him. “You got work.” 

Castiel looks at his phone. He’ll have to miss his morning run. 

“I’m sorry for staying over,” Castiel apologizes. 

Dean blinks, raising an eyebrow. “You mean that thing you’ve been doing without a problem until a week ago?” The omega shakes his head. “I told you, it was fine. Don’t know why you’re freaking out about all of the sudden… kind of needed you here.” 

Dean looks pointedly away.

“I didn’t realize…” Castiel stumbles out. “I thought with your mother here-”

“-That’s why? That’s why you left?” Dean huffs. “My mom doesn’t care. And if she does, so what? _I_ want you here. You kind of left me hanging leaving like that.” 

“I apologize.” 

Dean holds out a hand. “I’d rather you just stay than say your sorry.” 

“I’ll stay.” 

“Good,” Dean nods. “Though not right now, ‘cause you gotta bring home the bacon.” He slaps Castiel’s ass playfully. “And I have expensive taste.” 

 

It gets easier from there. Knowing he doesn’t have to leave, that Dean wants him to stay, knowing that he doesn't have to go home to an empty apartment. He’s still working late hours, still arriving long after dinner, but at least he gets to see Emma. At all hours he misses her, misses her wails, her gurgling, her nasally huffing breaths she makes when she sleeps. She’s barely a person, really just a list of demands, yet he loves her so deeply, so fully, he aches at the idea of missing any part of her day. Often he finds himself wondering what Dean is doing at the moment. The answer is most likely feeding Emma, but he likes to imagine them cuddling, or Dean tugging at her feet as he changes her, or the look on Dean’s face when he feeds her, head bent, attention entirely on her as both stare at each other in wonderment.

He’s thankful that Dean doesn’t let a day go by without the omega texting him a photo of their daughter, often captioned with funny texts like “I just spit up all over grandma” that make Castiel chuckle out loud. Dean sends videos too, which Castiel plays repeatedly under his desk as he tries to work. It grows into a bad habit, how his mind is spent mostly on his daughter and he suspects he needs to ween himself of it when he hears a baby cry outside his office. 

He drops his work, his fingers still poised over the keyboard as he waits for another cry. There's only silence and he thinks maybe he's starting to hallucinate from lack of sleep. It’s like college all over again.

Castiel shakes himself and starts typing when he hears it again.

Maybe he is losing it, he thinks, though that thought is stopped when he hears he hears a hitch-pitched“awww” and some giggling. 

He steps out of his office, finding Dean sitting on Samandriel’s desk, chatting eagerly with the secretary. There’s a stroller beside Dean and group of betas and omegas from several departments surrounding it, all of them cooing and gasping. 

“She’s so precious!” one of them cries out. Castiel sees the omega beam with pride. 

“What do we have here?” Castiel asks. 

“Cas!” Dean says brightly, slipping off the desk. 

“Oh Mr. Smith, she’s just adorable,” a woman tells him and Dean grins widely. 

Emma starts to cry, a lusty one that means she’s hungry. 

“Sorry, guys,” Dean tells the group, picking up the diaper bag. He turns the stroller around. “Somebody needs to be fed.” 

The group parts, looking disappointed, most of them protesting as Dean steers the stroller towards Castiel. 

“Cas?" he asks, winking at the alpha. 

“Right,” the alpha coughs, opening his door. “This way.” 

The omega sits down at Castiel’s desk, stretching out comfortable as he unbuckles Emma from her seat. Without a flare of embarrassment, he pulls out a bottle and cuddles Emma, smiling as the baby begins to suckle. Castiel turns away to avoid looking directly at Dean. It feels sort of wrong having the omega in his office, especially considering the last time they had been in here alone. 

Dean doesn’t seem to care or remember. He flips through the papers on Castiel’s desk, tutting and shaking his head. 

“How are you handling this one?” Dean asks the same time as Castiel blurts out “What are you doing here?” 

Dean scoffs. “What, you’re not delighted to see me?” 

“I am,” Castiel assures. “Just… why?” he finishes lamely. 

“I thought we would give Papa a visit.” Dean smiles, patting Emma on her butt. “Didn’t we?” 

Castiel raises an eyebrow. 

“And Mom might have kicked me out,” Dean adds meekly. “Said something about being cooped up in the apartment isn’t good for you, blah, blah, blah. Also something about how I’m driving her crazy. Can you believe that? She kicked me out of _my_ apartment. She literally dropped me at the curve and drove away.” 

Dean picks up a framed photo sitting on Castiel’s desk. It’s of Dean and Emma, taking a few hours after her birth, a hospital bracelet visible on Dean’s wrist as he cradles the newborn. Emma looking impossible small compared to how big she is now. Dean places it down, setting beside the sonogram given to Castiel months ago. 

“I also need a favour from you.” 

Castiel frowns. “Of course.” 

“Just need you to watch her for a bit. Got a meeting to attend.” 

“Zachariah?” Castiel’s stomach rolls at the thought of Dean meeting with their boss. 

“Yeah,” Dean nods, fiddling with the hem of his untucked shirt. Dean is no longer pregnant, but his stomach is still round enough that his shirts drape over it and that he’s in the pants with the elastic waists. There’s an overall softness to the omega that has appeared since Emma’s birth. Castiel remembers how disgusted Zachariah looked during the final months of Dean’s pregnancy, how the beta had sneered when Dean had waddled into meetings, his belly large and round. Castiel can only imagine what Zachariah will see when he looks at Dean’s postpartum body. 

“Of course, I will,” Castiel agrees, though he shakes his head when Dean leaves the room and looks at his daughter. “I hope your father knows what he’s getting into.” 

 

Dean’s meeting seems to take hours. It’s long enough that Samandriel comes in with guise of delivering coffee but with the intention of holding Emma, which Castiel reluctantly allows, unable to say no to the young face of his secretary. It’s not like Castiel can work anyway, his thoughts entirely on Dean, so he makes small talk with Samandriel instead. 

Just as Castiel is about to usher Samandriel out of his office, the door opens with a shaking force and Dean enters, filling the room with a scent of pure anger and distress. 

Samandriel turns red and stutters something quickly as he hurries out of the room. He stops to apologize to Dean, head bent, face even redder, though Castiel is certain Dean doesn’t even notice him. 

“Castiel, let’s go,” Dean growls. His eyes are red-rimmed and his face puffy and he looks like wrath itself. 

“Dean,” Castiel says carefully. 

Dean ignores him, pushing past the alpha for the stroller. The door slams open and shut and Castiel hears Emma’s sobs. 

Castiel hurries out, only to see Dean snap at a group of secretaries who have gathered around Dean like a flock of seagulls. They look at him shocked, unused to the temper of the usually charming omega, most of them murmur darkly as Dean pushes past them. 

“Sorry,” Castiel says quickly, not stopping to hear their complaints. 

He catches up to Dean just as the elevator door pings open. 

“Dean,” he calls. 

The omega ignores him, the doors closing and Castiel just manages to squeeze through. 

“Dean,” he repeats. “Dean, look at me.” 

The omega looks up, his jaw tight and his eyes wet. 

“He fired me,” Dean bites out. “He fucking fired me.” 


	17. Chapter 17

“Downsizing the department, that’s just bull,” Castiel hears Ellen spit out. 

He pauses at the doorway, a cloth full of spit-up balanced precariously on his shoulder, a baby monitor buzzing lightly in his hand. Castiel has been waiting for this since Dean was fired. After wiping angry tears and comforting the omega, he had promised not to say anything to Ellen until Dean felt ready. For the last week the two of them had tip-toed around any mentions of work, quick glances and grim smiles passing between them whenever Ellen made any mention of Sandover. Castiel is sure that half the venom in her voice comes from hearing the news so late, though Dean had taken _days_ just to tell Castiel everything that had happened. 

Castiel watches Ellen pour a cup of coffee, the pot slamming heavily against the counter before she passes the cup to Dean. The omega takes it, looking sourly at the cup's contents before pushing it aside, his back hunched, his head low. From where Castiel stands he can smell all the distress and fury coming off Dean and he wishes he could step up and comfort him. 

“You’ve been at the company for how many years?” Ellen continues, pouring herself a cup, the hot coffee splashing unto the counter. “How many?”

“Too many,” Dean mutters. 

“It ain’t right.” Ellen shakes her head, her spoon clinking loudly as she stirs. She takes a deep sip, thinking. “Did you tell him you’re going to sue?” 

“I’m not going to sue,” Dean says quickly. “Don’t have a case.” 

“Don’t have a case?” Ellen mimics. “Don’t have a case? You could bring down that whole place down in one phone call. Don’t have a case, my ass.” 

“Yeah, and what _is_ my case, Mom? What evidence do I have that I’ve been discriminated against, that I've been fired unfairly.” 

“You’re an omega who just had a baby-”

“- _That I’m an omega_ ,” Dean spits out. “Mom, I don’t have any  _real_ proof. I can’t go into court and say that I feel _funny_ when I’m alone with my boss, or that he always man-handled me or that he’s touched my ass I don't know how many times. I can’t say that the reason I’ve been let go is because I’m an omega. Not when three other departments lost people. It was cutbacks for the entire company. A lot of good people made suddenly redundant. What makes my case special?” 

Ellen’s scent fills Castiel nose, all burnt and coppery, leaving the taste of blood in his mouth. She growls lowly and frustratedly before she tosses her hands up, defeated, and turns back to the counter. Her frustration hits Castiel, and he can feel her fury, not at Dean, though there’s hints of it, but at the entire situation. Dean isn’t wrong though. He has no case, not when fifteen people are out of the job. 

“Mom,” Dean says softly. “I get what you’re trying to do, but just drop it.”

Ellen laughs, though it’s without humour, all watered down and bitter. “You’re asking a lot from me, Dean.” 

“I know,” Dean smiles. “But I can’t do anything. Zachariah is always gonna say he crunched the numbers, that this is just what happens in this economy. All he has to do is tell the judge that I’ve been lacking in sales this quarters- which is true- and there goes my credibility and my case.” 

“Baby,” Ellen says gently. She reaches out for Dean, pulling him close and tight and just holds and holds him. 

“I’m fine,” Dean says as he pulls away. “I just gotta get over the shock of it first. Maybe take some time for myself.” He shrugs. “I don’t know, this could be a good thing.” 

“Could be,” Ellen admits. “But I still worry about you.”

“You always do,” Dean laughs. “Got nothing better to do.” 

Ellen scoffs, her hands on her hip. “Got plenty more to do than worry about your sorry ass. I can worry about you a lot less when you stop hanging around in your PJs all day,” she tugs at his flannel, smiling. “Or maybe when you get out of the house every once in a while. Or maybe try and shower-”

"Okay, that’s called having a newborn,” Dean points out, stepping back. “I’d still be just chilling here, fired or not.” 

Ellen scoffs again before she steals Dean’s abandoned coffee. She swallows it one whole gulp, the words “smart ass” chasing after it. She slams the cup down, her eyes making contact with Castiel. She looks away quickly though, turning back to Dean. 

“You should move back with us,” she tells Dean quietly. 

For a moment Castiel thinks he’s been gutted, that his innards are falling out one by one. The sensation is so vivid, he has to grip the doorframe tight to keep himself upright. He doesn’t step through it though, instead he waits, breathing deeply, trying to steady himself. 

“Move back home?” Dean says doubtfully. “Really?”

“I wouldn’t ask unless I meant it,” Ellen says quietly. “Thought not our home, god forbid. Could you imagine the amount of cleaning we’d have to do just so an infant can live there?” Ellen shakes her head. “The area is good, Dean. There’s plenty of jobs available and even if you don’t find anything right away, we can look after you for a bit.” 

“I can look after myself,” Dean reminds her. 

“Honey, I know you can, but you don’t have to. That’s what family is for.” She shakes her head again. “It will be good for you to be with your family. Between Bobby, Jo, and I, we’ve got childcare covered. I get to see my grandbaby without hopping on a plane, you don’t have to worry about strangers taking care of her.” 

“So, that’s what this is? A long con to get my daughter?” Dean teases. 

“Well, moving back does have its perks,” Ellen admits, grinning. 

Dean shakes his head. “Mom, I can’t.” 

“And why not! You’re not in debt, you can end your lease this month. Bobby won’t mind. Jo doesn’t get a say in this matter. You don’t have a job. So what’s keeping you here? You got nothing holding you back.” 

Castiel swears he sees Ellen’s eyes flicker to him. 

“Right,” Dean finally agrees.  Castiel’s stomach lurches, bile rising sourly in his throat. 

“That’s a lot to think about right now,” Dean continues as Castiel steps forward. “Gotta take some time with all this.” 

“Emma’s asleep,” Castiel announces, his voice louder and harsher than he intends, making Dean jump in his seat and mutter out a string of curses that Ellen also repeats. 

“You need a bell,” Dean snaps, though he smiles as Castiel settles beside him, leaving the words with little bite. 

“Apologies,” Castiel tells him. The omega looks away quickly, his face red and his eyes guilty. 

“Just don’t do it again,” Dean mutters. 

Castiel looks to Ellen, who stares at him all alpha and unyielding. Most times Castiel would look away, let the alpha mother have her claim, but now Castiel stares back, his eyes narrowing. 

“Oh-kay,” Dean says, lifting himself up. “Hate to break all this-” He waves vaguely. “Whatever this is- up, but as Mom has so helpfully suggested, I need to shower and I got like fifteen minutes max to do it and I’m not wasting this window being stuck in the middle of an alpha showdown.” 

Dean gives both of them a strange look before he pushes past. Castiel’s eyes follow the retreating omega, lingering long after Dean leaves the room. He sighs, turning back to Ellen, her eyes still steadily on him.

“Ellen,” he greets coldly. 

“Castiel,” she nods, her arms crossed. 

They stare at each other. 

“You got something you want to say to me?” Ellen asks, her mouth twisting upwards with amusement. 

Castiel can think of a thousand things to say, demands and answers. To ask Ellen what she’s doing and why she wants to tear Dean and Emma away from him. Why she wants to wreck his life. Just those thoughts leave him spinning and he can't even form the words to express his anger, so he continues to stare.

Ellen takes his silence as a no.

“Good,” she tells him, uncrossing her arms. “That’s good.” 

 

For days the thought of Dean leaving weighs heavily on Castiel. Though Dean lies beside him as they sleep, Castiel already begins to mourn the loss of his omega. He watches Dean, carefully keeping every smile, every bad joke, every sour expression, every eye roll in his mind. At night Castiel shuts his eyes tightly and tries to imagine what it will be like to sleep alone again, mentally willing Dean away piece by piece. He wakes in the morning breathless and thankful when he sees the omega curled up beside him. 

This preparation for the worst affects Castiel's work. Though Zachariah never outright says anything, Castiel can see the beta’s growing gleefulness at his recent poor performance, no doubt happy to finally have an excuse to get rid of him. Castiel knows he has grown short-tempered and churlish, knows that Samandriel outright avoids him because of it. His secretary now rushes to bring in coffee and files, making minimal small talk before he hurries out of Castiel’s office. This only makes Castiel’s mood worse, and, in turn, his work. 

It’s shortly after he almost _destroys_ a printer that Castiel admits that he cannot keep this to himself any longer and with limited options on just who he can talk to, he stumbles downstairs to the tech department. 

Castiel hasn’t been in Sam Wesson’s floor since he had walked in loudly demanding answers and scaring half the tech support people all those months ago. He remembers little of that day, especially after Sam told him Dean was pregnant with Castiel’s child, but he must have left an impression as the moment he steps unto the floor the entire department goes silent- except for Sam and Charlie who appear to be in a deep serious argument. 

“Harry and Ginny were meant to be!”

“I cannot believe you come into _my_ cubicle-”

Castiel clears his throat. 

“Dude,” Sam looks up surprised. “What are you doing here?” 

“I’ve come to ask your opinion about a matter, but I can see you two are busy and I am needed elsewhere.” He can feel his cheeks twitch as he tries to repress a smile.  Castiel tries to turn around, but Charlie grabs him by the wrist and pulls him back. 

“Hold it there, Constantine. You want help from _us_?” 

Sam’s eyebrows raise at that, he looks smugly at Charlie. 

“Yes,” Castiel sighs. “Yes, I do.” 

“Well fuck this argument.” Charlie grabs an empty chair. “I can continue proving Sam wrong later.” 

Sam rolls his eyes. “I’m not-”

“-Whatever,” Charlie waves dismissively at him. “This is more important.” She turns to Castiel. “Spill.” 

Castiel makes eye contact with a bobble-headed vampire on Sam’s desk and he wishes he never made this journey down here in the first place. 

“Cas?” Sam asks carefully. “You okay?” 

Castiel sighs. “Dean is going to leave me,” he announces. 

He waits for Charlie and Sam to protest this fact, to assure him that everything is going to be okay, but Charlie just glances quickly to Sam confused, the beta helplessly shrugging in return. 

“What makes you think that?” Charlie asks. 

“Ellen has asked him to move back in with her.” 

“And Dean said yes?” Sam frowns. 

“He said he’d think about it,” Castiel mumbles sourly, annoyed that Dean’s _friends_ are neither shocked nor taking this news seriously. Maybe Dean has already told them what his intentions are. It would be… poetic if Castiel heard life changing news from two people who work in the tech department _again_. 

“Well, that’s not a yes or a no,” Charlie tells him. “Dean never said outright that he’s leaving.” 

Castiel ponders this. “It was implied,” he points out.

“No, it wasn’t!” Sam scoffs. “Just because Dean’s too afraid to say no to his mother doesn’t mean he’s going to pack up and leave.” 

Charlie starts giggling beside Sam, her shoulders shaking before she collapses onto him. Sam starts laughing, and Castiel has to look a way. 

“I’m sorry this is so amusing to you both,” Castiel snaps. “That Dean might up and leave with my child is _hilarious_ to you two.” 

“It’s not!” Sam says, sobering up. “It’s really not.” 

“The fact you _still_ haven’t told Dean how you feel about him, is though,” Charlie adds quickly. 

Castiel’s head snaps to Charlie, who looks sheepishly at him. “It’s obvious,” she shrugs. 

“Not to Dean,” Castiel says bitterly. “If it was, he wouldn’t be thinking of leaving. Or he would’ve told me already.” 

“Here’s a solution,” Sam says lowly, leaning forward. “How about you try _telling him_.” 

Castiel frowns. “He knows how I feel.” 

Again, Charlie and Sam begin to laugh, an act that continues for a good five minutes. Castiel sits awkwardly there, his face growing redder and redder as he feels half the department turn to the three of them. He sinks further into his chair. 

“No, he doesn’t,” Charlie says, wiping her eyes. She hiccups. “Honestly, he doesn’t.” 

“I can’t believe Dean managed to find someone even more oblivious than him,” Sam says to Charlie, his shoulders still shaking as he laughs silently. 

Castiel flushes. Surely the omega knows how Castiel feels? It’s not like Castiel has been keeping that to himself. 

“Thank you for your… help,” Castiel says stiffly, getting up. 

“Sorry, Cas,” Charlie looks at him apologetically. “It’s just…. _really_.” 

Shaken by this revelation, Castiel nods and rushes out of the tech department, fully aware of the eyes upon him as he hurries back to his office. 

_Dean doesn’t know_. It’s really something that simple. Castiel can admit that maybe he didn’t _outright_ tell Dean how he feels, but it definitely was _implied_. Surely outright moving in with Dean and, say, _sleeping_ in the same bed should mean something. Castiel shakes his head and scoffs at himself and Dean. Charlie is right. _Really_. 

This news turns Castiel’s mood right around and by the time he leaves the office, Samandriel is actually talking to him again, evens tells Castiel that he _looks_ good (well… Samandriel stutters it, but Castiel gets the drift). Just knowing what he has to say to Dean pushes him forward and Castiel finishes his work by five o’clock- a first in a long time. His fingers tap nervously his entire drive home and he can’t help grinning at the thought of Dean staying. 

_Maybe Dean won’t stay even if he knows_ , his mind supplies him unhelpfully, but he quickly banishes such thoughts. Castiel hasn’t seen a lot of romantic movies, but he knows sweeping into the apartment and declaring his love will work. _It has to work._

He forgets to factor Ellen into his plan. 

“Castiel!” she yells the moment he burst in, the door slamming loudly. She has Emma in her arms, whose all red-faced and squalling. 

“Ellen,” he begins to apologize. 

“Out, she snaps, pointing to the door. 

“Ellen,” he tries again. 

“Out,” she growls, pushing Castiel through the door before he can protest. 

The door slams behind him and Castiel looks at it with disbelief. He knocks his head angrily against the door, fist raised and ready to fight, but before he can call out, the door opens again and a rather flustered looking Dean is pushed out. 

“She kicked me out!” Dean sputters, the door shutting loudly behind him. “She kicked me out of my own apartment!” 

“Sorry?” Castiel asks, slightly dazed, confused by this entire situation. 

Dean pulls out a wad of bills from his pockets. “She said ‘I needed to leave the house once and while’ and something about two grown ass adults needing a life before she handed me some cash and told me to get out.” 

“That’s…”

“Fucked up,” Dean finishes for him. “Man, I know!” 

The omega looks at the cash in his hand, quickly counting. 

“You know, it would be nice to get out without Emma for a change,” Dean says meekly, rubbing his neck. 

“Should we find somewhere to eat?” Castiel asks carefully, hope bubbling within him. 

“Why the hell not?” Dean grins. 

-

Dean hasn’t eaten in a diner in god knows how many years. He remembers frequenting them almost daily for most of his twenties, too broke to afford anything else, too tired to make his own meals. The last time he probably ate at one was just after he got his first “real” adult job, and he still was not used to having money in his pockets, or to the feeling of stability and stillness, afraid any minute he would wake up without money, or a job, or a home. 

Sliding into a booth, he remembers why he stopped, the seat sticky from an ancient spill, a visible layer of grease on the table. 

Cas doesn’t seem to mind. The alpha’s eyes have been creased with concern since they were kicked out the apartment, silent and fuming as Dean drove them to the nearest spot to eat. The alpha doesn’t say anything when he slides in across from Dean, only mumbling for a coffee and a cheeseburger to a gum-chewing waitress when she takes their orders. 

Dean tries not to let the alpha’s weird behaviour affect him. His mom is right, Dean needs a night away from Emma. As much as he loves his daughter, it’s nice to sit in a room full of adults and not worry about being puked or pooped on for the next hour or so, awkward silences aside. 

His stomach growls as two plates filled with burgers and fries are placed before him and Cas and he digs in with little thought, devouring his food quickly. 

He’s about half way through his meal when the hairs on the back of his neck begin to prickle and he senses that he’s being watched. 

Carefully dropping the burger back onto to the plate, he looks up and sees Castiel staring at him, his own burger in hand. He smirks at Dean, still chewing and looks down. 

“What?” Dean asks. 

“Nothing,” the alpha shakes his head, picking up a fry. “It’s nothing.”

“Oh-kay,” Dean draws out, reaching for his burger. He refuses to drop eye contact though, silently laughing as Castiel struggles to keep his eyes off of Dean. Finally the alpha seems to have enough, sighing as he sets down his burger and looks at Dean. 

“Are you going to leave me?”

“What?” 

“Are you going to lea-”

“-No, I got what you said. _Just what the fuck do you mean_?” 

“I heard you and Ellen talking-”

Dean sits back, rolling his eyes. Of course, Castiel would hear his mother’s half backed idea and think Dean would go along with it. As much as Dean loves his parents, he has spent every moment since he left college making sure he never lives with them again. He left his home town with no intention of returning and just because he’s currently unemployed and a single parent doesn’t mean he’s gonna break that streak. 

“You think I’m going to leave?” 

Castiel looks away. 

“Cas,” Dean reaches out, grabbing the alpha’s hand. “ _Cas,_ ” he says quietly. Castiel lifts his head, his eyes are lined with wrinkles, hooded with lack of sleep and Dean wants never to look into them and see them this sad again. 

“Alpha,” Dean says firmly, squeezing Cas’s hand tight. “I would never make this decision without you.” 

Castiel looks at him surprised. 

“You wouldn’t?” he scoffs. “Because that has not been my experience,” he tells Dean bitterly. 

And damn, does Dean deserve that. He has done nothing but keep Castiel at a distance from the moment the alpha arrived at Sandover. Hell, the first thing Dean did when he found out he was pregnant was try and arrange a life that excluded the alpha. So maybe he shouldn’t say what he wants to say, maybe it’s for Castiel’s best that he tells the alpha that he’s right, that Dean has made another stupid decision without him and lets the alpha go, but Dean can also admit that he’s selfish and that his _need_ for Castiel is what stirs the urge to push him away. Dean has already lived a life of sacrifices, has already let what he _thought_ was the love of his life walk away and it sucked, it fucking sucked, even if he knew it was for the best. He thinks about a life alone or a life without Cas and he doesn’t want to do that bullshit again, doesn’t want to stand at a taxi cab saying sorry when he can just say _stay_. 

“Cas, I don’t know what we are, or how you feel about me, but fuck, I know I like you… I like you a lot. I know things have been confusing for us. Hell, I don’t even know if you feel the same. When this whole thing first went down, I thought you were stepping up out of duty, that you felt _obligated_ to take care of me and Emma. Maybe you are and I’m just making an ass out of myself, but when you kissed me in the operating room, I thought something _shifted_ for us. It could’ve been all the drugs I was on, but I thought something was different between us. Fuck, maybe even long before that. I don’t know. I just know I don’t want you out of my life and it’s not ‘cause I want you here for Emma, though I really really want you to be here ‘cause you’re a great dad so far and I really need you.” 

Dean shakes his head. 

“I really fucking need you.”

“ _Dean_ ,” Castiel says weakly, and Dean can feel his stomach turn violently within him and he knows, _just knows_ , that Cas is going tell him to go to hell. 

“Never mind,” Dean says quickly. “Stupid of me-”

“-Dean,” Castiel protests. “Dean, sit down.” 

And Cas says it so kindly, so earnestly, that Dean does, though he can feel his legs shake and his heart beats so loudly he’s not sure he heard the alpha right. 

“Dean, I am unsure of where we went wrong that you would think I’m only here solely out of duty.” Cas laughs and if Dean wasn’t so on edge, he’d laugh too. Instead, he waits, his face stormy, his hands twitching, for the alpha to continue. 

“Dean,” Cas sighs frustratedly. He looks, for a moment, angry, but he looks at Dean and his eyes soften and he smiles at the omega, quiet and private. “Since Miami, I have wanted to pursue a relationship with you. Actually, if I am being truly honest with you and myself, I have ‘wanted’ you for far longer. How things ended in that hotel room has been my biggest regret-”

“Other than not wearing a condom,” Dean adds, half joking. Castiel snorts. 

“I’ll never regret that. I’ll never regret Emma or you or anything that has happened since that night, but I will regret that I let you leave with the impression that I was some alpha knothead that only wanted a quick fling to prove that I could conquer you. I fucked that up. I really did. I was angry and I was hurt because I wanted more than you were willing to give and I should never have lashed out on you for not making my intensions clear.”

“Which are?” Dean asks, his throat tight and his eyes blurry. 

“My intensions are to mate you, properly and with your permission. I need you, Dean. I want and need you and I want a life together, want to raise our daughter together, want _us_ to be together. Would you like that too?” 

Dean wipes his eyes, his throat is closing in and he can only nod. 

“Bill,” he croaks to the waitress. “Can we get the bill?” 

When they leave the diner, Castiel says his name so softly, Dean is at first unsure he heard it, but he looks at the alpha and knows what Cas is trying to say, can sense the longing, can sense the love within it. 

“Are we really doing this?” Dean asks. 

“I thought we already were-”

Dean pulls Cas towards him and kisses him. At first the alpha is stiff with shock, but Dean feels himself being pulled in tighter, feels Cas’s hands clutching his face. Cas pulls back, smiling before he kisses Dean’s forehead and rests his own against Dean’s. 

“Your place or mine?” Dean half jokes, though Castiel scoffs at the idea. 

“Considering I want to mate you properly, want to take you apart slowly until you’re begging for me to claim you, I suspect staying in an apartment occupied by your _mother_ and our child is out of the question.” 

Dean laughs. “Lead on.” 

 

 

Castiel’s apartment is unlike anything Dean ever thought it would be. Considering Castiel is a Type A sort of alpha, Dean expected an apartment as clean and tidy as Castiel’s office, pristine and white. 

Instead, he trips over a box full of papers while he’s making out with Cas. 

“Jesus,” Dean says as Cas reaches out to steady him. 

“Be careful,” Cas teases, grabbing Dean’s hips. 

“Don’t have so much crap,” Dean snaps back, his eyes wandering over the frankly _rows_ of boxes that take up Cas’s living room. The entire place smells sort of musty and with the blinds all down, Dean sort of feels like he’s just walked into the apartment of a serial killer or an old lady who died five years ago. 

“Clean much?” Dean mutters, though Cas gives him a pointed look. 

“I’ve been at your apartment for the last month,” the alpha reminds him, before he nips at Dean’s neck. 

Dean gives the place a second look, admitting that between the dust and the bad lighting, he can see aspects that make the apartment look homely, like a brown plaid couch that Cas has probably owned since college or the various knick-knacks and books thrown half haphazardly around the room. 

“If I’d know you lived like this, I wouldn’t have agreed to mate you,” Dean teases. 

Castiel stops sucking at Dean’s neck. He frowns, as he looks around the apartment as if he’s seeing it for the first time. 

“I’m joking,” Dean says quickly. “I’m joking.” 

“You better be,” Castiel growls. 

“Are you going to punish me for that?” Dean says, tucking his fingers into Cas’s belt loop. 

“I better,” Castiel nods before Dean’s phone beeps loudly. 

Dean glances quickly, smiling when he sees the text. 

“Mom just texted to say that Charlie and Sam have stopped by to help out with Emma and that she doesn’t want us coming home for the weekend.” 

“We better listen to her,” Cas says solemnly as he takes the phone from Dean’s hand, tossing it onto the couch. He picks up Dean effortlessly, carrying the omega to the bedroom and drops him on the bed. Dean lands with a bounce, and he hears Castiel growl hungrily above him as Dean stretches out, quickly discarding his pants as Castiel undresses before him. 

Naked, Castiel crawls onto the bed, kissing Dean lightly on the nose before he moves to Dean’s neck, sucking deeply as he reaches down and tugs at the hem of Dean’s shirt. Dean freezes, his hands reaching down to stop Castiel’s actions.

“Dean,” Cas whines, trying to lift the shirt and Dean shakes his head, his eyes tracing every muscle on the alpha’s body enviously. He thinks of his stomach, stretched out and scarred, the layers of fat that sit heavily on him and the excess of skin from the little weight he has lost since Emma’s birth. Cas isn’t going to want him when he sees how Dean looks underneath, he’s not going to want to mate Dean when he sees how Dean looks. 

Castiel whines again, impatiently kissing Dean as he works the omega’s shirt and underwear off and Dean turns away, unable to look at his stomach, and waits judgement. 

“Dean,” Castiel repeats, this time softly and breathlessly, almost with reverence. “God, you’re perfect,” he mutters, kissing lightly at the caesarian scar, his hands squeezing gently at Dean’s fat. “You carried our child, brought forth a new life with this body,” he says, each word spaced out with a kiss. He moves upwards, tracing kisses along the softness of Dean’s body and, again, he nips gently at Dean’s neck. 

Dean whimpers and presses himself against Castiel, desperate and ready. Castiel sits back on his haunches, leaving Dean wanting and longing, though Dean can see in the alpha’s eyes that this action is without malice or cruelty. Cas stares at Dean, his eyes full of worship and hunger before bends down and kisses Dean deeply. 

“I want to mate you, want to knot you and bite you,” Castiel murmurs, their noses almost touching. “I want to be your alpha. Will you have me?” 

Dean stares up breathless and wanting, his eyes tracing the muscles and sinew of Cas, the dark of his hair and the little blue left in his blown-out eyes. Never has Dean known an answer so certain. 

He nods, his chest heaving heavily, and spreads his legs. 

“Dean,” Cas says softly as he reaches down and traces Dean’s already wet hole, eagerly working a finger into him, stretching him out. 

“Does this feel good?” Cas asks and Dean lets out a shaky laugh, his body squirming and pushing up, ready and eager for the alpha to fill him, to mate him. 

Dean nods, his hand clutching Cas’s hair, drawing the alpha closer and closer to him. Cas chuckles, muttering something about how eager Dean is, but Dean doesn’t really register it, can only understand the feel of Cas’s hand on his thighs, gripping him tight. 

Cas’s hand moves away from his leaking hole and Dean whimpers at the feeling of emptiness, though the feeling doesn’t last for long, Castiel pushing into him effortlessly, both their breaths hitching as Dean adjusts to the alpha’s large cock within him. 

Dean isn’t sure if he's muttering something, his mouth opening and working against Cas’s chin, but he doesn’t hear the words leave him. He must have said something as he hears Cas’s deep chuckle before the alpha reaches for Dean’s thighs, adjusting him just so. 

“Wrap your legs around me,” Castiel tells him and Dean does, his feet hitting one another lightly as Cas begins to move in him, at first soft and careful till a steady rhythm is established, one that makes Dean’s hand reach out to grip Cas’s thigh. 

Dean babbles as Cas draws him nearer and nearer. Never has he felt so full, so loved, Cas repeating his name akin to worship, making a religion out of Dean’s body, Dean’s flesh. Dean has never been so ready to be filled. 

Cas’s knot grows within him, stretching him and filling him, distracting him from the way Cas sucks at Dean’s neck, bruising and marking before the real claim is to be made. Dean groans and feels himself spill out onto his stomach, all stretched, all scarred, before the alpha comes inside him. 

At this, the alpha ceases his sucking and bites down on Dean’s bare neck, a painful sensation that hits the omega like lighting in an open field, so wondrous is the action it must be divine. He hears Cas say his name and he repeats the alpha’s back, before he curls into the warm neck of his mate, his mouth sucking and then biting. 

A claim made, a claim given. 

Fair is fair. 


	18. Chapter 18

When Dean wakes, it is to the smell of a content alpha and the feeling of a warm body pressed happily to his. Castiel’s knot has gone down during the night, but the alpha has wrapped Dean in his arms and legs, and Dean can practically hear Castiel purring with contentment. For a moment, Dean is ready to slip out of the alpha’s arms and sneak out, unsure if he really is supposed to be here or not, but he turns his head to the alpha’s neck and breathes in for any scent that might make Dean doubt. He smells nothing but a happy alpha.

“Dean,” Castiel mumbles, his arms pulling Dean closer and tighter in. 

“Cas,” Dean says back, his fingers tracing the bite mark on the alpha’s neck. “Mate,” he whispers. 

This makes the alpha smile. “ _Your_ mate,” he reminds Dean, taking the omega’s hand and kissing the tips of his fingers. His lips move from Dean’s hand to Dean’s mouth as he slowly presses Dean back into mattress. 

The room is filled with morning light, almost too bright for Dean to open his eyes fully, but he loves watching Castiel move to straddle him, his eyes blinking as he takes in the alpha smiling above him. Castiel kisses him deeply again, before he pulls away, making Dean whine with the loss of contact. 

“Coffee?” the alpha suggests. 

“Coffee,” Dean agrees, though his cock is already half-hard and he can feel himself beginning to slick up again. He wants Castiel buried in him again, to feel the alpha surround him and fill him. He also just wants to feel Cas’s skin against his, just wants to cuddle and kiss him slowly while the morning passes. 

“Should we take your mother’s offer up for an entire weekend of babysitting?” the alpha grins, his hands sliding slowly down Dean’s chest. “That way we can skip the coffee?” 

“Seems only fair,” Dean slurs. “Seeing as she kicked us out and all.” 

Castiel laughs, his body vibrating as he leans down and kisses Dean. He moves to kiss Dean’s mating mark, sucking and licking it like he’s about to claim Dean again. 

“Stop,” Dean laughs. “Stop with the neck action.” 

Castiel’s hand moves instantly to the mark on his own neck. “Why? You seem to like it?” he asks, rubbing the mark Dean made. 

That shouldn’t make Dean hard, but it does and Castiel notices, if the matching erection is anything to go by. 

“I didn’t realize you had a fetish,” Dean teases. “Otherwise I’d wouldn’t have…”

Castiel sucks in a breath and leans back, and Dean fears he made a mistake. He’s about to backtrack when Cas chuckles. “Sure,” the alpha remarks before he continues kissing Dean’s neck. 

“I’m serious,” Dean laughs, the action choking in his mouth when he feels the alpha’s hand reach between his legs. Castiel first plays with his balls, rubbing them so gently that Dean’s feet begin to press upon the bed, his hips canting. This is just what the alpha wants, Cas’s hand travelling to Dean’s slick-filled hole. 

“Always so eager for me, Dean,” Cas sighs happily. “Always so ready to be knotted by your alpha.”

“My alpha,” Dean growls, just as Castiel slips two fingers inside him. 

“That’s right,” Castiel murmurs, his attention entirely on Dean’s thighs. “ _Your alpha_.” 

Dean clenches at the thought, more slick gushing out of him. Castiel hums with approval, kissing Dean’s inner thigh lightly. 

“You’re so good, Dean. So good.” 

Dean shudders at this praise, his mind now lost with Cas’s movements.

“Knot me, alpha,” he tries to say, but he feels Cas shake his head just as Cas’s places his hand on his side, rubbing him gently. 

“Turn over for me.” 

And Dean does, his body so pliant and ready he doesn’t feel the expected pain from being knotted the night before or from the scar on his belly. 

The air is cool now, almost shocking on Dean’s bare skin, but he doesn’t have time to contemplate this as Castiel slips his fingers into Dean, working more slick and cries from Dean’s body. Dean is almost tempted to ask again to be knotted, but he saw the look of concentration on Cas’s face before he flipped over and he knows the alpha has a plan. 

The plan becomes evident when Cas finishes caressing Dean’s ass and slips his tongue into him. Dean nearly jumps out of the bed, but Cas’s hand is still firmly on him and instead Dean presses further into the mattress, trying to get some form of friction on his cock, which is now aching to be touched. 

Again, he expects Cas to tell to him to stop, to move Dean’s body into a kneeling position and keep Dean deprived, but the alpha lets out a grumbling laugh before he continues eating Dean out. 

“Fuck,” Dean cries out, rubbing himself into the sheets, now pressing harder and harder until he spills out, crying out his alpha’s name. “Jesus Christ, Cas…” 

Castiel lets out another full body chuckle as he sits up, hands still gently massaging the curve of Dean’s ass. 

“Was that good?” 

Dean wants to say something biting, something sarcastic, but he can only nod into the pillow. 

“Good,” Castiel murmurs, shifting to get out of bed. 

“How about you?” Dean asks quickly. “Do you want some help?” he nods to the alpha’s erection. 

“Maybe after coffee?” 

“Are you _kidding_ me?” 

“I really would like coffee now, Dean.” 

“You think coffee is better than my mouth?”

“Well, you do have such a dirty little mouth.” 

“Not that little,” Dean murmurs. “I could definitely take you.” 

Castiel turns back to Dean. “Show me.” 

Dean doesn’t want to get up, just wants to curl into the sheets, but Cas’s command has him up and out of the bed and pressing Cas against the wall. He still feels a little weak and little vulnerable, his legs shaking slightly before he drops to his knees. Castiel’s hand brushes the top of Dean’s head, his fingers gripping lightly at Dean's hair, while Dean presses his cheek to Cas’s thigh and breathes in the scent of the alpha. They stay like that, almost statue-like, before Dean shifts and takes Cas’s cock into his mouth. There’s a moment where he thinks he might have oversold himself, Cas’s knot beginning to swell as the alpha hums above him. 

Dean falls back, sputtering. 

“Are you going to knot my mouth?” he snaps.

Instantly, the calm between them stops as concern fills Castiel’s eye. 

“No. No, not unless you wanted me to.” 

“I don’t,” Dean says quickly, before he looks down, shamefaced.

Neither of them say anything, instead they wait for the other to speak first. Dean keeps kneeling, unable to look up and face his alpha. 

“Dean,” Castiel says softly. “Dean, look at me.” 

“I’ll go make you that coffee,” Dean mumbles, standing up to push past Cas. 

Alone in Cas’s kitchen, Dean turns on the radio and mindlessly opens cabinets looking for coffee. He can feel the distance between him and Cas growing the longer he stays away from the bedroom, though it mixes with his irritation that the alpha didn’t follow him. 

Cas only emerges from the bedroom when the coffee is made and Dean standing before Castiel’s fridge contemplating the contents within in it, half listening as the DJs talks about some Hollywood exec and something about sexual allegations. 

“Should we go out for some….” Castiel looks at his phone. “Lunch?” 

“I guess.” 

“Dean-”

“Cas, I don’t want to hear it,” Dean snaps. 

“Dean, you have done nothing wrong.” 

“Okay, cool. Still don’t want to hear it.” 

Castiel fiddles with the coffee cup, his fingers looping delicately around the handle. 

“I wish you would speak to me,” he finally says. “Whatever happened in there, whatever you felt, I would like to know.” 

Dean sits on that, his lungs rising heavily in his chest. He knows Castiel is sincere, knows the alpha wants to hear him and cares. Still, he can’t make his mouth open and speak. 

Castiel grows tired of waiting for him, and moves back into the bedroom. Dean wonders if he’s supposed to follow, though the thought of returning there turns his stomach, the space is now too embarrassing for him to enter, too spoiled by his shitty behaviour. 

Cas returns fully dressed, and with Dean’s clothes in his arms. 

“You can get changed in the bathroom, if you want? I’m assuming you’d still like to eat.”

Dean nods, taking his clothes from Castiel’s arm. 

 

By the time he’s dressed and outside, Dean feels the weight of Cas’s apartment leave him. It’s helped by the alpha himself, who wraps his arm around Dean and walks them slowly to a diner. 

It’s the same diner as the night before, since it is the closest one to Cas’s apartment. Dean isn’t sure what is worse — diners in the morning or at night, since both seem to reek of a form of desperation that Dean does not want to feel. He feels like a dirty one-night stand slipping into a booth, still wearing the clothes from the night before, and it’s only Castiel’s smile across from him that puts him at some kind of ease. 

Castiel orders for them (eggs and bacon with a side of fruit), smiling at the waitress that Dean is half-sure served them the night before. Unlike last night, Castiel reaches out for Dean’s hand and Dean gives it willingly, letting it rest against the filthy tabletop as they wait for their meal. 

Dean eats, surprised as his appetite grows with each bite, and listens as Castiel chows down beside him. 

“We’re not eating here again,” Dean says. “This is not going to become a regular place for us.” 

A small smile breaks on Castiel’s face, though he doesn't look up or stops chewing on a piece of bacon. “I refuse to promise that.” 

“Of course,” Dean snorts. 

He waits for Castiel to press further, to force Dean to speak, but the alpha keeps eating.

When Dean finishes his meal, he drops his fork and knife loudly onto the plate. 

“You don’t regret claiming me, do you?” 

Castiel looks up at him sharply. 

“It’s fine if you do.” 

“Dean, I would never-”

“-You might. You might realize….” Dean shakes his head. “I don’t know what happened this morning. I was ready and I _wanted_ to do that.” 

“We all have boundaries. I should have asked before I did… that.” 

Dean shrugs. “You can’t control it.” 

“I can and I should have tried harder.”

Dean scoffs. “Wasn’t that the issue?” he mumbles. 

Cas rolls his eyes.  “Maybe now I regret claiming you,” he quips. 

Dean reaches over for the last of Cas’s bacon. “I’d thought you say that,” he says, taking a bite. 

 

Dean sleeps with Cas that night. They don’t fuck, they don’t make love, he doesn't get knotted  — they  just sleep. Somehow slipping into bed without the expectation of sex is far worse. It makes Dean wonder if he presses too close, if he should do  _something_ to earn his place beside the alpha, but Cas is the one who curls in closer, who drapes his arms around Dean and sighs happily into the omega's neck. 

It feels like a mending of sorts, just as leaving the diner and taking Castiel’s hand felt like a mending. There had still been tension in that moment, Dean’s heart pounding loudly as he reached for Cas’s hand — a hand that had felt in the moment more like stone than flesh before it relaxed and clutched Dean’s hand in return. It’s the same tension that follows them to Cas’s bed, leaving Dean unsure when he undresses and crawls into bed, his breath heavy until Castiel begins to snore beside him. 

When they wake the next morning, Dean confesses, though he does not mean to. Cas rubbing his eyes sleepily and lazily smiling at Dean does something, makes Dean feel the need to speak before he can even think of what exactly he wants to say. 

“I had a lot of sex dreams about you when I was pregnant…. maybe even before. That’s why I banged you on your desk. Also I was straight up frustrated with you, 'cause you can be a complete ass at times, but mostly it was because of the sex dreams.” 

Castiel laughs, turning to look at Dean. “I may have spent _years_ wanting to take you on my desk,” he confesses. “Or on your desk. It never really mattered. I never thought you would march into my office and do… well _that_.” 

Dean starts to laugh, a deep belly laugh that makes him roll over and clutch his sides. Castiel starts laughing too, his face splitting into a gummy smile as he wipes his eyes. 

“Should I make us some breakfast?”

Dean nods, but like yesterday he would rather they curl up together and waste the entire day in bed. Cas seems to be on the same wavelength, since he refuses to let Dean leave the bed, and instead brings back a tray filled with toast and grapefruit for them to eat. They spend the rest of the afternoon there, sloppily eating and talking before the sun begins to set and they are forced to concede that the weekend is almost over. 

“Do you need to pack anything?” Dean asks, his hand waving around the room. “It…. it might be a while before you come back.” 

“I’ll have to clean it out eventually,” Castiel says, wiggling into a pair of jeans. “Unless-”

“No, obviously, you’ll have to clean this place up. That couch is not allowed in my apartment.” 

“It’s a perfectly good couch, Dean.” 

“No,” Dean laughs, “its not.” 

They continue arguing about the value of Cas’s stuff until they reach Dean’s apartment. Both of them pause at the door, unsure of what will greet them inside. It could very well be the same disaster as Friday evening, a squalling baby and angry alpha mom. 

“Just open the door,” Dean whispers to Cas. 

“And face your mother’s wrath?” 

“Coward,” Dean hisses, but he doesn’t step forward. He’s spent enough of his teen years trying to sneak into his parent’s house to know what sort of greeting he’ll get if Ellen is in a bad mood. 

Castiel sighs heavily beside him, but he reluctantly opens the door. The place is quiet, too quiet and the reason for that becomes apparent when they step in and find Ellen, Charlie, and Sam staring at them. 

“Hi guys,” Dean says meekly. Sam and Charlie roll their eyes at him. Ellen also looks up, as if she’s asking God for patience or for a baseball bat to cave her idiot son's head in. She has Emma in her arms, gently bouncing her. 

“Have you been waiting here all weekend?” Dean teases, reaching out for Emma. God, does it feel good to have his daughter in his arms again, to breathe her scent and feel her solid weight. “I’m never leaving you again,” he whispers to her. 

“Like you weren’t the one to go AWOL,” Ellen scoffs. 

“Because you told me to!”

“I didn’t think you’d actually listen…” Her eyes narrow. “Is that a _bite mark_? Dean Michael Smith, I swear to God, if you got yourself mated-”

“Mated!” Sam and Charlie yell. 

“He did,” Castiel says proudly, rubbing his own claim. 

“Cas!” Dean snaps. “Not helping!” 

“Mated!” Ellen repeats, shaking her head. 

“Hey, you were the one that pushed us into it,” Dean points out.

“No, I just wanted the two of you to get your heads out of your asses and admit you liked each other. I didn’t think you’d _mate_ at the first moment you're left alone." 

Castiel curls around Dean, his hand lightly tugging Emma’s foot. “She’ll get over it,” he whispers to him, kissing his temple gently. 

Dean laughs. “Oh, don’t worry, she loves this. She’s just pissed she didn’t predict we’d mate so quickly.” 

Emma curls into his neck, snorting slightly as she takes in her omega daddy’s scent. Her nose scrunches when she scents Castiel and Dean worries for a second that she might not recognize them now that they're mated, but she drifts off quickly, happy to be in his arms.

“Was she good?” Dean asks, looking up. 

“No,” Charlie says quickly. 

“Charlie!” Sam hisses. 

“Well, she was as good as she’s ever going to be,” Ellen smiles. “She wouldn’t stop crying yesterday though. Missed the two of you, I guess, though I’ll never know why.” 

“Sure, Mom,” Dean laughs. "Sure.” 

" _Oh, I am sure_ , and when that baby is out of your hands, you're gonna to hear just what I think about you being mated...."  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did not expect to take this long to update, but life has been (really) busy. I was starting to feel guilty because I only had the epilogue left, but when I was writing it, more plot happened. So now there's two chapters left!


End file.
